


In the Books

by draco_illius_noctis



Series: Caught Looking World [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Bit of a Tag Jump Here, Depression, Destructive Behavior, Family Issues, Fluff, Homophobia, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Injury Recovery, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mental Health Issues, More family drama, Naked Cuddling, Pre-Series, Suicidal Ideation, Will Anyone in this Universe Ever Learn to Properly Communicate?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:56:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draco_illius_noctis/pseuds/draco_illius_noctis
Summary: Anders is entranced by Karl Thekla the first day they meet. What begins as a friendship out of convenience soon blossoms into a love that neither one ever hoped they could find.This is a supplemental fic to chapter 19 in Caught Looking.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the books ( _idiomatic_ ): The game is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic takes place in my [Caught Looking](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3803575/chapters/8473459) world. 
> 
> Check out the end notes for some important stuff. 
> 
> This story takes place in 2004.

He remembers the first time he saw Karl Thekla.

Anders was new to the Rebels’ minor league team - an impressive first-round draft pick who decided to leave college early to pursue his dreams. He shows up late to their first day of practice, confident that his reputation and importance would earn him little in the way of punishment.

It’s not until he approaches the field that he notices the man standing alone with his arms crossed, his back to Anders as he watches the rest of the players from off to the side. Anders pauses briefly, taking in the man’s slightly guarded posture as he stares with an almost defeated expression.

He feels like he should know the man…some vague sense of familiarity tickling the outskirts of his memory, but he couldn’t place him. Moreover, he felt the _need_ to place him, to know him. An uncommon feeling.

 _No time like the present_ , he thinks, making his way over.

“Hey,” Anders introduces himself, holding out his hand as he reaches the man’s side. “I’m Anders.”

The man’s face brightens at the greeting before realizing who is standing before him. His lips open slightly as he stares in shock, trying desperately to force words out of his mouth. Anders raises an eyebrow, hand still hovering between them.

“I…I know who you are,” the man grins sheepishly, finally taking his hand. “Everyone knows who you are. I’m Karl.”

Anders shrugs at the comment. Everyone _does_ know who he is, he is well aware of that fact. He had broken several school and league records in the two years he pitched, easily chosen as the first pick in the draft that year. He is the subject of countless news segments, articles, and interviews breaking down every strength and weakness. It doesn't matter that he's a rookie – he's also a star.

Which also didn’t exactly lend itself to making friends. Those on his team loved him, although Anders couldn’t help the feeling that he was being used. Some avoided him, while others outright taunted him, calling him cocky or overrated.

He hoped that leaving school meant leaving behind the immaturities that went with it, but he wasn’t willing to bet that would be the case. He knows what he’s like. He knows his ego can be out of control. But if he’s _earned_ it, well, shouldn’t he reap the benefits?

It isn’t exactly the reception he'd like going into a new team full of unknowns, but he also won’t let it affect his performance. He knows he needs to build up a thick skin if he wants to make it in this game.

Although having someone on his side couldn’t hurt.

“Let’s be friends, Karl,” he finally says, both turning back to observe the field. “I think I could use a friend around here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick explanation for those of you reading this and mentally screaming at me for not posting the next chapter of the main fic. I wanted to give an in-depth description/explanation of Karl and Anders' relationship, but it came off as very forced and ineffective in the main fic. The way that narrative flows doesn't really lend itself to Anders giving a lengthy description of his relationship. Also, it deals with some pretty heavy subject matters once we get further in, and I kinda wanted to keep that away from the more lighthearted tone of the main fic. 
> 
> I'm going to be posting (probably) two chapters a week until I finish (which should be soon). Because of the length, I didn't want to post it as one really, really long chapter because I know I tend to get frustrated when I can only read a certain amount at a time and lose my spot. The first couple chapters are short and give more of an overview of their relationship, and then we'll move into more specific snippets of their life. 
> 
> ALSO, please pay attention to the tags as they're updated each chapter. I'll point them out in the top notes, but I don't want anyone caught off-guard.
> 
> In case you've forgotten/haven't seen my faceclaims for Anders and Karl, [here's Anders](https://www.dropbox.com/s/4weadvuenkei8y1/8BXSOxQmjMc.jpg?dl=0) and [here's Karl.](https://www.dropbox.com/s/7kk6vrhbmfswjp2/tumblr_oeiso6QqcD1sj6b2yo1_1280.jpg?dl=0) Anders totally has a type.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention last chapter that this isn't beta'd, so excuse any mistakes.

He remembers the first time he kissed Karl.

It's a couple of months into their first season. Karl pitches phenomenally that evening, earning them a win that solidifies first place in their division. Anders insists the two of them go out and celebrate – nothing fancy, maybe just a few beers to mark the occasion.

Karl agrees, and a few beers turns into a few more before the pair decides it’s time to go home. Karl’s apartment is closer, and he invites Anders to crash on the couch that night instead of traveling the short distance to his own place. Anders hasn’t consumed nearly as much as Karl but decides to take him up on his offer anyway – at the very least he can help his friend with his inevitable hangover the next morning.

The season has been remarkably better with Karl at his side. While Anders had been expected to sail through the season with ease, Karl had pitched better than anyone – including Karl himself – had hoped. It’s nice having an ally, someone he can depend on during rough patches and someone to celebrate with when times are good. And although their teammates haven’t approached Anders with quite the same level of disdain as he had anticipated, he still held everyone at arm's length.

Everyone except Karl.

Karl has quickly become closer to him than anyone he has ever known, and although he can’t bring himself to admit it to the man, his feelings have begun to bloom past mere friendship.

“You know…” Karl babbles as they step into his apartment. “I’m really happy you said hi to me that day.”

“You’re drunk, Karl,” Anders laughs, a small thrill running through him at the words.

“I mean, you’re… _Anders_ ,” Karl continues, laughing and gesturing wildly in Anders’ direction. “You’re better than most pros! And you said hi to _me_.” He shakes his head. “I was so happy I could have kissed you.”

“So kiss me now,” Anders teases, regretting the joke immediately when he sees Karl’s entire body stiffen.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little drunk and…” Anders lies, stumbling over his words. He cringes, hoping he can repair any damage he’s caused.

There is a beat of silence before Karl glances his way.

“Can I?” he asks, barely audible.

Anders shakes his head, which suddenly feels a lot more jumbled than it did a few seconds ago.

“You’re drunk, Karl,” he repeats. “I wouldn’t want to…you know,” he shrugs. “I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

Karl’s quiet for a moment again, gathering his courage before he takes a step closer.

“But I’ve wanted to,” he insists. He searches Anders' face, clarity finally beginning to surface. “Really. I just didn’t know if you were, um, into…”

“Men?” Anders finishes, grinning as Karl nods shyly. “I am. I’m into one, in particular.”

Karl’s face falls at the words, nodding his head again in defeat as a small “ah” leaves his lips. Anders realizes that in his semi-muddled state, he probably doesn’t understand what Anders is implying.

“Karl, I’m talking about you,” he laughs, feeling more liberated than he has in a while. Karl’s head shoots back up, smiling hopefully in Anders’ direction. 

“But like I said…I’m not doing it with you like this. How about we see how you feel in the morning? You might change your mind.”

This way, he reasons, if Karl wants to take back his confession, they can both write off the exchange as the result of the alcohol. But if it _is_ real…Anders wants all of Karl there to experience it.

The other man nods his head, looking slightly disappointed but resigned to the fact that Anders isn’t going to budge. He fetches a spare pillow and blanket and then, with a wave, heads off to his own room to allow Anders to settle in.

Morning comes quickly, and Anders wakes to the sound of Karl’s bedroom door opening. He sits up, noticing the look of surprise on the other man's face.

“Oh, I thought…” Karl stammers, turning red as he looks anywhere except in Anders’ direction.

Anders feels a wave of disappointment flood his chest. He hadn’t realized how much he had been hoping for a more…enthusiastic reaction. He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“I can go if you want. I didn’t mean to intrude this long.”

“No!” Karl shouts, eyes widening. “No, that’s not why. How about some breakfast?”

He almost sprints into the small kitchen, quickly taking out eggs and bacon while starting the coffee pot. Anders feels his stomach rumble at the smell and decides to stay, mainly to make sure he hasn’t completely fucked up their friendship.

“Sure,” he agrees. “Breakfast sounds great. I’m just going to wash up.”

Karl smiles in relief, nodding as he mixes the eggs. By the time Anders comes back out, breakfast is almost made and he has coffee waiting for him. In a big, round, black mug shaped like a cat.

“You have a cat mug?” he smirks. “I love cats.”

“I know,” Karl grins. “You go crazy every time you see one. I was…this is for you, actually. I picked it up a while ago, I just wasn’t sure when to…I don’t know.” He looks away shyly as he trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

Now it's Anders’ turn to blush. It’s such a simple gesture, yet he can’t remember if anyone has actually done something like this for him before.

“Sorry,” Karl says, chuckling a little. “That probably sounds weird now that I think about it.”

“Not at all,” Anders reassures him. “I was just thinking that no one’s ever paid attention to the little details about me. Unless, you know, it was baseball.”

He grimaces at the last statement, Karl only smiling in response as he piles food onto the two plates. They eat in relative silence, both seemingly content to be alone with their thoughts. Anders finishes first, sighing as he sits back in his chair.

“That was amazing. Who knew you could pitch _and_ cook?” he grins.

“I’m full of all kinds of secrets,” Karl laughs as Anders gets up and collects their dirty plates. “You don’t have to do that…”

“You let me sleep here and made me breakfast the next morning, and I didn’t even have to fuck you,” he winks as Karl blushes, looking away.

Silence settles between them again as Anders washes the dishes, but something new hangs in the air. Karl is aimlessly wandering the kitchen, moving things around to make it seem like he’s cleaning. Anders is unsure if he should say something, opting to remain silent to give the other man the chance to speak first. Which, of course, he doesn't take.

Anders finally finishes and turns to face Karl as he dries his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Anders asks kindly. Karl looks embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck as he drifts over to the sink.

“I, um…I didn’t change my mind,” he murmurs, taking a step closer as he searches Anders’ face. 

Anders makes a small noise of surprise, smiling as he tentatively cups Karl’s face with one hand. Karl leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut as Anders runs his thumb across Karl's cheek before meeting his gaze.

They look at each other a moment longer until Anders gently presses their lips together. The kiss is sweet and electrifying at the same time, sending chills down Anders’ spine as he pulls away. Karl smiles bashfully, lowering his head.

“Hey,” Anders whispers, tipping his chin back up.

“Hey,” Karl echoes, distracted, eyes trained on Anders’ lips.

Before Anders realizes it, Karl is on him again, eagerly kissing him as fingers grip the back of his head to pull him closer. Anders lets out a muffled groan of pleasure, opening his lips as the kiss grows. His hands snake down Karl’s back to rest on his hips, pulling the other man flush with his body. Karl lets out his own low moan into Anders’ mouth as the kiss stretches on forever.

They finally break apart, both taking a moment to allow their breathing (and other body parts) to return to normal.

“So, um…” Karl starts, looking down and shuffling his feet as he takes a step back.

“Hey,” Anders breathes. He closes the space between them, wrapping his arms around Karl’s waist to pull him back in.

“I liked that. And if it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep doing it.”

Karl’s smile is radiant as he looks up, and even years later Anders would think it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karl is a sweet puppy and I love him. So does Anders (shhhh). 
> 
> Comments, kudos, etc. are always appreciated :) You can also find me on [tumblr](http://draco-illius-noctis.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/woofyhawke).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More sap and some updated tags

He remembers the first time they made love.

They’re playing an away game in Amaranthine and, having arrived early in their travel day, they decide to explore the new city for the first time.

Both are hyper-aware of their behavior, Anders especially fighting the urge to act like a couple instead of friends and teammates. He takes delight in the little touches and squeezes he gives Karl when they're alone, watching as the man blushes, nudging him away. They laugh and continue on, Karl either ignoring or oblivious to the longing glances Anders shoots his way after every rejection.

For whatever reason, the hotel they’re staying in that series is nicer than most. They've been bunking together on road trips all season, seeking the little privacy they're able to while surrounded by their team. They’re used to the uncomfortable beds, lukewarm showers, and threadbare towels. They know once they get called up to the Rebels things will get better (only the pros get the good stuff, of course), so they joke and make the best of it.

But Anders sees this as an opportunity to do something nice for Karl, something unexpected. He wants to spoil him in a way he’s sure no one has done before.

They eat dinner with their teammates and are on their way to the hotel bar when Anders grabs Karl’s arm, stopping him.

“Hey, I’m not feeling well,” he frowns, rubbing his head. “You go on without me. I think I’m just going to lie down...maybe take a shower.”

“I’ll come with you,” Karl replies quickly. Anders sees his fingers flex and knows the man is resisting the urge to touch him. He glances at their teammates out of the corner of his eye, but no one seems to be paying them any attention as they find seats.

“Nope,” Anders shakes his head. “Enjoy yourself. Maybe this place will have decent booze for a change. Plus, it might look a little suspicious if we go off together.”

Karl nods curtly, and Anders can tell he isn’t happy with the request.

“Just give them an hour,” Anders gives him a soft smile. “Then you can slip away. I’ll probably be asleep by then anyway.”

“Alright,” Karl replies doubtfully, looking towards the bar. “Go relax, I’ll see you in a little while.”

They part ways, Anders walking slowly towards the elevators and lingering near the door until Karl is out of sight. As soon as he's sure the other man is gone, he bolts out the front doors and back to the nearby stretch of shops they had been through earlier in the day.

Karl ends up spending about an hour and a half at the bar, judging it enough time before he can plead tiredness and excuse himself. He gingerly opens the door to their room, trying as much as possible to stay quiet in the event Anders has actually fallen asleep. He is greeted by a dimly lit room, and it isn’t until he steps further inside that he realizes the glow is coming from dozens of candles rather than the lamps.

“Anders?” he whispers, closing the door and walking towards the beds.

“Was wondering when you were coming back,” Anders replies, suddenly appearing behind him. He's wearing nothing but a towel around his waist and appears freshly showered.

“What’s going on?” Karl asks nervously. “Should I—“

“Take your shirt off and lie down on the bed? Yes, you should.”

Anders smirks and walks over, watching as Karl's eyes widen slightly in anticipation. He leans in, tugging gently at Karl's collar before placing a kiss first to Karl's lips and then down his jaw and across his neck.

“Unless you want me to undress you myself?” he murmurs into the other man’s ear, smiling when he feels Karl shudder. When he doesn’t move, Anders unbuttons the top few buttons, looking into his eyes.

“Is this okay?”

“God, yes,” Karl whispers, resolve breaking as he grabs Anders and pulls him into a heated kiss. Both men fumble, trying to rid Karl of his clothes at the same time. When he's finally down to just his underwear, Anders leads him to one of the beds, guiding him to lie on his stomach before joining him.

“I _was_ going to give you a massage,” he chuckles, lying on his side to face the man. Karl glances down at the very obvious tent in the towel that is still inexplicably tied around Anders’ waist.

“And I’m guessing you have other plans now?” he smirks.

Anders reaches over, running his fingers lightly up and down Karl’s side.

“No,” Anders replies absentmindedly. “We still can. This is for you, not me.”

“What’s for me?”

“This,” Anders says, gesturing around the room. Karl takes in the candles properly this time, also noticing a couple small bottles on the bedside table alongside a white cardboard box.

“Oh, that one is definitely for later,” Anders chuckles, noticing the way Karl’s eyes linger on the box. “I got you those chocolate truffles you were drooling over earlier.”

“I was not drooling,” Karl grins, shoving him lightly on the shoulder. “But thank you.”

The pair haven't gone beyond kissing and some heavy petting up to this point. Anders is well aware of Karl's inexperience in the area, which is the main reason why he hasn't pushed the other man into more, no matter how much he might want to. Karl, for his part, has seemed hesitant every time they get into more... _enthusiastic_ activities, never seeming to want more beyond fumbling hands and frantic rubbing in the dark.

Anders smiles but says nothing, content just to keep touching Karl like this until the man makes a decision.  

“So…” Karl finally begins. “If the chocolates are for later, then my choice is the massage, or…?”

“Or let me make love to you,” Anders murmurs, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He hears Karl’s breath hitch at the statement. “If…you’re ready, of course, I don’t—“

“I’ve been ready,” Karl cuts him off, now rolling onto his side as well so they are face-to-face and nearly touching. Anders can see the evidence of the other man’s arousal straining against the cotton and tries not to stare.

“I’ve been waiting for you to make a move,” Karl continues, shyly, following Anders’ eyes downward. “I know I've been kind of giving mixed signals but I wasn’t sure if…if you were…”

“I love you,” Anders blurts out, surprised at his own words as Karl’s eyes widen in shock.

“What?”

“I…love you,” Anders sighs. “I have for a while.”

Karl is still staring at him in disbelief, so he quickly keeps talking.

“I’m sorry if it’s too soon, I just wanted to do something nice for you. And I thought we were ready for this and I’ve wanted to for so long and—“

His words are suddenly cut off, lips covering his own as Karl rolls on top of him. His kisses are burning, intense…as if it’s both the first and last chance they’ll ever have to enjoy this pleasure. Anders snakes his arms around Karl’s body to pull him closer, determined not to let him go. Their hips gently press against each other, not quite thrusting, but tentatively testing the waters. It’s Karl who finally breaks them apart.

He gazes down at Anders, both of them breathing heavily with red and swollen lips. Anders’ eyes are half closed, staring back up with a mixture of hope and fear.

“I have loved you,” Karl pants, “for so fucking long.” He reaches over, brushing strands of hair out of Anders’ face as he smiles. “I just…I never thought you would feel the same way.”

“Why?” Anders asks with a confused smile. He props himself up on his elbows as Karl rolls off.

“Well, because we…I thought you wouldn’t want to…” he sighs, closing his eyes in frustration as he struggles to find the right words. “I didn’t think you wanted to hide your whole life.”

“So let’s not hide,” Anders eagerly replies, sitting up and grabbing one of Karl’s hands. “I’m not ashamed. I _want_ this, Karl.”

Karl looks away, fiddling with an errant thread on the bedcover.

“You know we can’t,” he murmurs, a pained look on his face. “It’s not that easy.”

“Why can’t it be? I don't want to keep pretending. Fuck them, I’ll do a press conference tomorrow, I don’t care what other people think.”

“You don’t have to,” Karl yells, immediately apologetic. He reaches out and grasps Anders’ hand in both of his, a pleading look in his eyes.

“I don’t want to ruin tonight…let’s talk about this later,” he begs. “Please.”

He slides over, straddling Anders’ lap as he takes the man’s face in his hands.

“Please,” he repeats over and over, frantically placing kisses all over Anders' face. “Please, love me…”

Anders hesitates a moment before murmuring his assent, and in one smooth move he flips them over so Karl is on his back. The towel has finally come loose and is kicked off the bed, now only the thin layer of cotton left between them. Both men are breathing heavy again, Karl casting his eyes down Anders’ body in reverence. Anders sits up slightly, cock hard and proudly jutting forward, enjoying the attention.

“Hey,” Anders smiles, snapping Karl out of his daze. He reaches down to place teasing strokes along the other man’s cock through his underwear. “You sure you’re ready, love?”

He punctuates his question with a much firmer stroke, grinning at the reaction as Karl gasps and squeezes his eyes shut, back arching off the bed. He nods his head vigorously, straining to pull Anders closer.

“Yes, yes, _please_ ,” he whispers, gripping the back of Anders’ head as he draws the man into a frenzied kiss.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” Anders breathes as Karl lavishes kisses along his jaw and throat. “Love you so much…”

“Love you,” Karl mouths into his skin. “Love you…wanted you for so long…”

Anders groans, pulling the last bit of Karl’s clothing off before devouring his mouth with another kiss. He finally sits back, gazing down at his lover in pure adoration. Karl grins, face flushed and chest already heaving with exertion.

“Never again,” Anders hums, smiling as Karl’s face drops in confusion. He chuckles quietly as he leans down to lay another chaste kiss on Karl's lips before pressing their foreheads together.

“You’ve ruined me, Karl Thekla,” he murmurs. “No one is ever going to hold a candle to you.”

“I hope you’re not thinking of replacing me already,” Karl jokes lightly, giving him another small kiss.

“Never,” Anders smiles again. “There will never be anyone for me except you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I normally find "making love" kinda cheesy for whatever reason, but "fucking" seemed too crass and "having sex" too clinical, so whatever lol. 
> 
> I think this whole thing is going to end up about 10 chapters. I'm just finishing up chapter 8 now and I'd love to have the other 2 done by the end of this weekend before my new school term starts. Chapter 4 will most likely be up Friday or Saturday. 
> 
> Thanks again for all of the comments/kudos/etc., you know I love and appreciate every one :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anders has always been a bit of a brat.
> 
> No need to update any tags for this chapter, but if I miss any in upcoming chapters feel free to let me know and I'll add it. Sometimes I don't know how specific to get.

He remembers their first argument.

The end of the regular season approaches and the playoffs loom on the horizon. The atmosphere in the clubhouse is intense, each game played as if they hadn’t already clinched first place.

Anders arrives at the ballpark early that day, as he always does on days he's scheduled to start. He spends the time alone, warming up and going over scouting reports one last time before joining the rest of the team in the locker room to dress and head out to practice.

By the time he returns to the room he sees the rest of the team already milling about at their lockers. Some laugh and shout at each other across the cramped space, others sit silently with headphones locked in their ears. Anders makes his way to his own locker, glancing around the room for Karl but failing to spot him. Anders left his apartment before Karl had even finished his breakfast, the other man waving blearily as Anders said goodbye.

It isn’t until another 15 minutes go by, everyone now fully dressed and heading out to the field in small groups, that Anders begins to worry.

“Hey,” he calls, jogging over to a few of the players on their way out. “Where’s Thekla?”

One of the men shrugs, uncaring. Karl is quiet, unassuming, and could easily have slipped away without anyone noticing. This does nothing to calm the anxious knot that's growing in his stomach, no matter how much his rational mind is telling him he's being ridiculous.

“Think he went to see coach,” one of the other men says, and Anders struggles to hide his sigh of relief.

He smiles instead, nodding his thanks and goes back to grab his glove before making his way outside to begin his own stretching. As much as he wants to linger and wait for Karl, he knows he can’t. He can only hope that that's actually where Karl is at the moment...and that it's nothing bad. 

The game is nearly ready to begin, the team heading back into the clubhouse for one last pep talk when Karl finally appears. He shoots a nervous glance at Anders, shaking his head slightly to stop Anders’ questions before they can begin.

“Stop worrying,” Karl murmurs as they sit next to each other, Karl lacing up his shoes. Anders almost wants to laugh at how easily the other man can read him.

“Just focus on your pitches, we can talk after the game.”

“You’re gonna leave me hanging the whole night?” Anders asks, only half joking and not liking the way his voice catches on the words.

“Yep,” Karl replies, slapping him on the back as he stands. “You have a game to win first.”

Anders wins, although barely. His distraction is obvious, despite Karl telling him repeatedly throughout the game that he needs to calm down. His teammates look less than thrilled with him, and it’s all he can do not to snap every time someone shoots him a disgruntled look. 

“There something I need to know about?” the pitching coach asks, pulling him aside after a dismal 4th inning.

“I’m fine,” Anders replies stiffly. “Guess I didn’t do my homework on these guys like I thought.”

The coach gives him a doubtful look but doesn’t argue other than to tell him to get his head out of his ass and pitch like he’s supposed to.

He catches Karl’s exasperated glance as he turns back around, choosing to ignore it and petulantly sit on the other side of the bench as their team bats. They make it through the rest of the game like that, neither speaking. Anders gets pulled after the 6th inning, and as much as he wants to sulk in the locker room for the rest of the game, he forces himself into seclusion at the other side of the dugout to sulk instead. He catches Karl's eye as he passes, the other man looking like he wants to say something, but Anders purposely turns his head away. 

He continues to say nothing to Karl as they stand in front of their lockers to change. A few of their teammates are making plans to go out, the somber mood lifted now that they have another win in the book. Anders avoids them all, trying to change as quickly as possible so he can drag Karl home and finally talk.

“Hey,” the familiar voice next to him calls out. Anders looks over, a twinge of happiness and guilt in his stomach that Karl is going to end the stalemate first. But Karl isn’t even looking in his direction.

“You guys going out after this?” Karl asks one of the men organizing the trip to whatever club they're frequenting that night. “Count me in.”

He’s standing intentionally with his back to Anders, still shirtless and smiling brightly at the others. The men erupt into cheers, someone shaking Karl's shoulder as they laugh.

“Thekla’s finally ready to become one of the big boys!”

Karl just grins, sneaking a quick look at Anders, who takes that moment to slam his locker shut with enough force to silence the room. He glares at them all in turn, lingering just a bit longer on Karl before grabbing his bag and stalking out.

“Dude’s got some issues,” one of the men mumbles as the voices gradually pick up again.

Karl worries his bottom lip, staring after Anders before shaking his head. He slings his bag over his shoulder, running his hand through his hair quickly before turning to the earlier teammate and smirking.

“I’m gonna make sure he doesn’t punch anyone on his way out,” he says lightly, rolling his eyes. “I’ll meet you guys there?”

Everyone agrees, a few snorting that Anders should be left to “fuck up on his own,” but there isn’t much in the way of argument. No one wants to be on Anders’ bad side and knowing how close the two men are they're well aware of the likelihood that word would get back to Anders eventually.

Karl trots outside, hoping to catch Anders before he calls a cab home. He doesn’t have to go far, however, as the other man is sitting on the pavement, back against the stadium wall with his eyes closed. Karl throws his bag to the side, sliding down to sit next to him.

“Shouldn’t you be out with your new friends?” Anders mumbles without opening his eyes.

Karl doesn’t reply, debating whether he wants to have this conversation in public. They both remain quiet for several moments, the cold of the pavement seeping through their clothing in the early fall night. It's peaceful and quiet tucked away off to the side where they're reclined, and as Karl stares at the stars he almost wishes they could remain where they are. He eventually clears his throat, bracing for Anders' reaction.

“We need to talk.”

Anders rolls his head to the side, looking at Karl with a sad expression.

“That line always leads to good things.”

Karl chuckles, grabbing Anders’ hand to haul him up as he stands. He grabs their bags, fishing his keys from his pocket before gesturing towards his car.

“Come on,” Karl says. “It’s not what you think. Let’s just get home.”

“Home” had become Karl’s apartment, Anders choosing to stay there more often than not. While he still maintains his own apartment for appearances, he rarely spends more than a few nights there a month.

The ride back to the apartment is silent, Anders staring out of the window the entire time and offering up no conversation. He doesn’t want to rush into the talk he knows is inevitably coming, although he counts it as a small victory when Karl allows him to entwine their fingers together for most of the ride.

His patience doesn’t last once they finally cross the threshold inside.  

“Talk.”

Karl startles, blinking at him in surprise as if not expecting the onslaught to come so soon. He sighs, flopping on the couch and gesturing for Anders to join him.

“Talk,” Anders repeats, not moving.

Karl looks around the room, biting his lip nervously before lifting his chin and fixing Anders with a resolute expression.

“I’m leaving.”

Anders looks down, rubbing his temples as he feels the lump rise in his throat. He knew it would only be a matter of time before Karl got tired of him, he shouldn’t have expected to actually…

“Is there someone else?” Anders found himself asking, voice breaking on the last word.

“Huh?”

Anders looks up to see Karl’s head tilted to the side, giving him a perplexed look.

“We’ve come this far,” Anders sighs. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t know what you’re…”

“Don’t play dumb, Karl,” Anders interrupts, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice.

He finally sits next to Karl on the couch, head resting against the back cushions as he stares at the ceiling. Karl doesn’t say a word, still looking at Anders in confusion. They sit in silence for a moment, until Anders hears a sharp intake of breath next to him.

“Oh my God,” Karl mutters.

He shifts over so that he’s straddling Anders’ lap, taking the other man’s face in his hands so he has no choice but to stare at Karl’s.

“Listen to me,” Karl says firmly. “I’m not leaving _you_ , you jerk. I got called up to the Rebels.”

Anders stares at him in open-mouthed shock, warring emotions struggling to come out on top. The immediate relief that Karl isn’t leaving him is quickly replaced by the mingling feelings of anger and jealousy that _he_ wasn’t the one chosen. He wants to be happy for his boyfriend, but he can already feel the dread creeping in, knowing how much of a void Karl leaving will cause in his life. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Anders finally whispers.

“I fought it.”

“ _What?_ ” Anders exclaims, pulling Karl’s hands away from his face so he can clutch them in his own.

“I don’t want to go,” Karl shrugs. “They’re bringing me up as a reliever, not a starter. I don’t want to pitch relief.”

“You don’t…you don’t just get to _decide_ that, Karl,” Anders cries. “They want you on the _major league_ team, you play where they tell you to play.”

Karl shrugs again, looking off to the side.

“Besides,” Karl sighs. “You belong there more than I do. I don’t know why they’d waste their time on me.”

“Karl…”

“It’s true, and you know it.”

“You deserve to be there,” Anders argues vehemently. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you put yourself down for no reason. You've worked hard for this and you belong there.”

"I don't think..."

" _Karl_." Anders exclaims. "Stop!"

“Then just forget I said anything,” Karl huffs. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

He pushes himself off of Anders’ lap, returning to the other man’s side. Anders misses the heat and weight of his body immediately.

“It _is_ for the best,” Anders insists. “The best for you.”

He leans over, planting a small kiss to the corner of Karl’s mouth. Karl doesn’t reply, playing with a bit of loose thread on his shirt.

“Not what I meant,” he mumbles. “Things will change.”

“Things are always going to change, love,” Anders replies gently. “That’s not always a bad thing.”

“I’m just…” Karl sighs, face setting into a frown. “I’m not good with change. I like the way things are now.”

“I know,” Anders agrees. “I do, too. But you’re wasted down here. We both are. You know that.”

Karl reluctantly nods his head before turning to look at Anders, searching his face for something. Anders smiles softly, hoping to assuage his boyfriend’s nerves and not let his own show.

“You’ll have a lot more free time now, with me gone,” Karl comments quietly.

Anders laughs, louder than he had intended, causing Karl to look at him with an uncertain smile.

“Right,” Anders snorts. “All the free time I was spending with you will now be spent thinking about you, or calling you, or emailing you…maybe we should try that texting thing more.”

He grins, yanking Karl back onto his lap with a yelp. Karl settles into his former spot, smiling as he rests his hands on Anders’ shoulders. Anders takes the opportunity to roll his hips once, raising an eyebrow suggestively at the other man.

“You know, we’ve never had phone sex,” he purrs, pulling Karl harder against him. The other man lets out a small moan, ducking his head to try and hide the embarrassed smile that creeps up.

“Because that’s not going to be at _all_ awkward,” Karl laughs.

“Are you calling sex with me awkward?” Anders gasps in mock offense.

He quickly undoes the buttons on Karl’s pants, opening them enough to reach inside and stroke him slowly. Karl does nothing but let out another moan, bending over to rest his forehead against Anders’ and thrust slightly into the touch.

“I never said that,” he pants, hips rocking into Anders’ hand.

“Nonetheless,” Anders groans, his own hips rocking up again. “I think we should spend the next two days working out all the kinks. Just to be safe.”

“Safe kinks, right,” Karl murmurs, pulling Anders into a deep kiss. “Let’s go practice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of what I call the "overview" chapters. Expect a lot more conversations and specific slices of their time together from here on out. 
> 
> I know it's not much of out and out argument (and a lot more of Anders being immature) but, well, this is still 21-year-old baby Anders so he hasn't quite mastered his talking skills. OH WAIT. Neither has 31-year-old Anders...
> 
> Thank you again for the comments and love, I appreciate every one <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than I planned to get up. It was just waiting for a last round of edits but I had a busy week at work, my new semester started this week, and I had a bunch of doctor appointments. But it's here now!
> 
> Tags have been updated, but nothing too major. I also think this chapter is as long as the first four combined.

He remembers their first month apart.

Karl’s nerves give way to excitement, and he spends the entire first week relaying every minor detail about life in the big leagues to Anders. Everything is nicer, he says. Bigger, fancier, more impressive.

“It is so amazing to stand on that mound for the first time,” he gushes one night, Anders grinning widely as he listens through the phone.

“It’s like being in another world,” Karl continues. “All those _people_ there, cheering for you.”

“And you did amazing,” Anders replies warmly. “I told you they made the right choice bringing you up.”

Karl makes a token noise of protest, but Anders can tell he's proud of himself. He pitched fantastically in his first (and only) inning so far and is still riding the high days later. Anders only wishes he could be there to share it with him.

“I miss you, love,” Anders says quietly after a beat.

Karl sighs on the other end, and Anders feels a momentary twinge of guilt for ruining the mood.

“I miss you, too,” Karl responds, just as softly. “As much fun as this is, it’s…I can’t help but think how much better it would be if you were here with me.”

“Next year,” Anders replies, hoping he sounds confident.

There’s been no talk of moving Anders up this late in the season. Not when his team is headed to the playoffs and needs Anders to bring them a championship. The Rebels have no shot of making it to the postseason, so the likelihood of the two of them playing together before the spring is next to none.

“At least it’s just a month left,” he continues, trying to reassure himself as much as Karl. “And we can start talking about what we want to do in the offseason.”

Karl hums in agreement, although he sounds distracted. Anders worries he’s killed the moment and quickly changes the subject, not wanting to hang up just yet.

“So, how are the guys up there?” he asks. “Everyone have sticks up their asses like I imagine, or are they more like the guys down here?"

Karl snorts at the unexpected change of topic, and Anders smiles, congratulating himself.

“A bit of both, I guess,” Karl answers. “Mostly the sticks. I, ah, haven’t really talked to a lot of them yet.”

“Why not?” Anders frowns. He can almost hear Karl shrugging through the phone.

“Well, I haven’t been here real long—“

“It’s been a month, Karl.”

Karl sighs on the other end, Anders shifting slightly where he’s sitting as his frown deepens.

“I don’t know,” Karl admits quietly. “You know I’m not that great at making friends, and I just feel… _different_ around them.”

“Different how?” Anders demands.

“I don’t _know_ ,” Karl repeats again, louder. “They’re just not very welcoming, and I’m the ‘new guy’ and you know I’m not the type to force myself into someplace I’m not wanted.”

Anders is quiet for a moment, turning the words over in his head. Karl isn’t exactly _close_ with anyone else in the minors, but he has friends and is generally well-liked.

“What about Cullen?” he asks finally. Cullen had been on the minor league team longer than both Karl and Anders and was transferred to the Rebels shortly after Karl. The man had always been at least cordial to Karl in the past.

Karl snorts again, the noise doing nothing to ease Anders’ growing nerves.

“Greagoir snatched him up as soon as he got here,” Karl replies. “We’ve barely said two words to each other.”

“Karl…”

“Listen,” Karl interrupts, sighing. “I’m drained, love. Can we just…drop it? I think I’m ready to get some rest.”

“Alright,” Anders replies doubtfully. “Maybe Sunday I can drive up and see you? We both have day games and have off on Monday…”

There’s a pause on the other end.

“I’ll think about it,” Karl finally replies.

“Just…try and talk to some of the other guys,” Anders gently prods. “You don’t need to hang out with them or anything, but it’ll feel better having friendly faces in the clubhouse. Trust me. From firsthand experience.”

He smiles, thinking back to the start of the season.

“I’ll try,” Karl says, without much enthusiasm. “Night.”

“I love you,” Anders replies. “Remember that. Please?”

“I know.” Anders thinks he can hear a faint smile creep into Karl’s voice.

He hangs up, fighting back the small knot of worry pitting in his stomach. He manages to convince himself that it’s just Karl’s shy nature and the awe of being in the majors for the first time that’s causing his hesitation. The other man had even admitted that change is hard for him…this shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Yet he can't get rid of the nagging feeling that there's something else going on.

He sighs, rolling over in his bed as he lets sleep overcome him, and by the time he wakes the next morning, the worry is forgotten.

* * *

“Karl, I told you, I don’t mind the drive.”

Anders sighs, tired of having this argument for the third time that week. It’s the following Saturday afternoon, and he’s already packing a bag so he can leave immediately following Sunday’s game and make the three-hour drive to Lake Calenhad.

“I just don’t think it’s worth it,” Karl argues. “We’ll see each other in a few weeks, don’t bother.”

"What's the problem?” Anders bursts out. “I’m not going to suck your dick in the clubhouse if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Anders…”

"No, I don't fucking get it," Anders growls. "Explain it to me like I'm stupid because I feel pretty fucking dumb right now."

They’re both silent for a few moments, Anders taking a few deep breaths to try and calm down. Part of him thinks maybe he  _is_ being unreasonable, but he needs Karl to spell this out for him because right now, it's making absolutely no sense.

“I just want to see you,” he eventually sighs, defeated. “I miss you.”

“I made a friend,” Karl blurts out, trying desperately to change the subject.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Karl breathes in relief. “Kristoff. You know, the backup catcher? He’s been working with me in some of my bullpen sessions this week.”

“He's been helping you out?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Karl replies. “I think it is more like…” He pauses again before letting out a quiet, self-deprecating chuckle. “I think it's more like he saw how awkward I was around everyone else and he took pity on me.”

Anders smiles, picturing the faint blush he knows must be creeping into Karl’s cheeks right now. He can’t help but feel a small amount of appreciation towards whoever this "Kristoff" is for being the friendly face Karl needs.

“He probably just saw the same thing in you that I did that first day,” Anders replies lightly.

Karl scoffs on the other end, but Anders has a feeling the blush has spread on his face.

“Although I hope he doesn’t see _quite_ the same things I do or I might have to beat him up,” he teases, pleased at the laugh it brings from Karl.

“You don’t have to worry about that, love,” Karl reassures him. “He’s just looking out for me.”

“Good,” Anders affirms. “You’ll have to introduce me when I come visit.”

Karl groans on the other end of the line. “I’m hanging up now.”

“I’m still going to come up there.”

“You don’t even know my address!” Karl exclaims. “Good luck finding me.”

“I’ll hang around the ballpark like a lost puppy waiting for you.”

Anders hears a muttered, “oh my God” followed by another groan and grins.

“Love, just…” Karl begins, sighing in frustration. Anders’ smile begins to fade.

“Just…there’s a lot going on here right now,” he continues. “I have to practice on Monday, and we really wouldn’t have a whole lot of time to spend together, and I’d hate for you to make the trip…”

“I get it,” Anders interrupts, harsher than he intended. “You don’t want me there. It’s fine. I don't want to go over this again.”

“Anders…”

“I have to go,” Anders curtly replies. “Call me when you have some free time in your busy schedule.”

He hangs up without waiting for Karl’s response, immediately feeling guilty over the rash move. His hand twitches next to the phone, debating whether or not he should call back and apologize, but eventually talks himself out of it and starts unpacking his bag. Karl doesn’t want him there. He doesn’t need to listen to another 15 minutes of excuses as to why not.

The week goes by with only a few cursory texts here and there, Anders becoming even more stubborn as the days go on. He refuses to apologize, while Karl remains unsettled and confused.

Friday night rolls around, and the entire team goes out to celebrate their first playoff win, thanks in part to a stellar performance by Anders. In the excitement of the victory he ends up drinking more than he knows he should, and he doesn’t think twice when he picks up the phone around 2 a.m. and dials Karl’s number.

“Anders?” comes the voice on the other end, hoarse with sleep. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, you’re not in my bed so I can give you a proper celebratory fucking,” Anders laughs, a little too loudly.

There's a brief pause before Karl clears his throat.

“Are you drunk?”

“Nope,” Anders laughs again, lying down on his couch to stop the room from spinning. “Just thinking about how much I miss your ass.”

“Anders…it’s really late,” Karl begins. “And you’ve obviously had too much to drink…”

“Why don’t you want to talk to me anymore?” Anders demands. “Why don’t you let me come in…in you?”

He laughs wildly when he realizes his incorrect choice of words.

“Sorry,” he gasps, still laughing. “You let me do that, at least. Why won’t you let me come see you? I promise it’s not just for sex.”

Karl’s quiet on the other end and Anders pulls the phone away, frowning at it in confusion for a moment before returning it to his ear.

“Karl?” he shouts. “Why do you hate me now?”

“Anders, _stop_ ,” Karl growls into the phone. “Fucking _stop_. I’m not talking to you like this.”

“You’re not talking to me like _anything_ ,” Anders shoots back. “You think you’re better than me now, cause you’re up there? Is that why you’re ignoring me?”

“I’m not ignoring you!” Karl cries in exasperation. “Why are you being like this?”

“Are you fucking someone else?” Anders demands. “You know, I had like four girls offer to suck my dick tonight and I turned them all down.”

“Well, thank you for the favor,” Karl spits out. “I’m done with this conversation.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Anders yells before Karl can hang up.

“No, I am not fucking anyone else,” Karl yells back. “I’m fucking miserable up here, I'm alone, and my own fucking boyfriend has his head rammed so far up his own ass he doesn’t bother to ask about anything except the next time he can fuck me.”

Anders is quiet, brow furrowing as he fights in vain to process this information.

“Sober the fuck up,” Karl says quietly. “Goodnight.”

Karl hangs up before Anders can reply, but this time he doesn’t hesitate to call Karl back. It goes straight to voicemail and he doesn’t bother to leave a message. He feels a massive headache beginning and isn’t sure if the nausea rolling in his stomach is from the alcohol or the conversation.

He can call Karl in the morning and apologize, he rationalizes as he goes to grab a couple aspirin and bottle of water. If Karl even wants to talk to him. Half of the conversation is already beginning to fade away in his haze, and he’s having trouble remembering much other than the tone of voice Karl had used. Even without remembering the actual words, that’s enough.

Anders sighs as he rolls into bed, haphazardly tossing the half-empty bottle of water on the table next to him. He hates his bed. He hates sleeping in his apartment again. He should have asked to take Karl’s instead so he could give this one up. At least then he could still feel like Karl is there.

An ache begins to form in his chest. He grabs one of his extra pillows, hugging it to try and quell the emotions suddenly warring through him.

He fucked up. He’s coherent enough to realize that. He’ll be lucky if Karl even answers the phone tomorrow, let alone is willing to have an actual conversation. He tries to work through it in his head, to figure out how he can get Karl to listen to him and realize it isn’t about sex, it’s about _him._  But sleep is already rapidly overtaking him.

All he can hear is Karl’s angry voice telling him to _stop_ as he falls into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Anders oversleeps the next morning, finally waking only a couple of hours before he’s due at the field. He groans as he looks at the time, blinking against the light and struggling to rub some of the headache away.

_Karl_.

His eyes snap open and he immediately grabs his phone in the hopes that Karl hadn’t already left for the ballpark.

It doesn’t go to voicemail, which is a good sign, but it takes several rings before Karl finally answers.

“What do you want?” Karl greets quietly.

Anders is struck silent by the words, opening his mouth to reply but finding nothing will come out.

“For fuck's sake…” Karl mutters. “If you’re not going to talk, then I’m hanging up.”

“Wait,” Anders croaks out.

He clears his throat, taking a deep breath to try to collect his thoughts.

“I just…” he begins, swallowing hard. “I wanted to apologize for last night. I’m not even sure what I said and—“

“Then what are you apologizing for?” Karl snaps. “Don’t apologize if you don’t know what you’re supposed to be sorry about.”

“I know I hurt you,” Anders growls in return, feeling his anger quickly rise to the surface. “I was drunk but not _that_ drunk. I remember that much.”

“Apology accepted,” Karl replies in a clipped voice. “I have to get ready to leave.”

“Can I call you later tonight?”

“I’m going to be really tired…” He can tell Karl is attempting to rush him off the phone, but he can’t let the other man go without trying.

“Please?” Anders sighs, not above begging at this point. “I just want to clear the air. Love…please?”

Karl is quiet for a moment and Anders holds his breath, afraid even the sound of his breathing might be enough to turn the conversation sour.

“Fine,” Karl finally relents, voice barely above a whisper. Anders huffs out a laugh in relief, grinning at the phone.

“I’ll call you,” Karl continues. “My game will get done later than yours.”

“Okay,” Anders quickly agrees. “I’ll talk to you tonight. Have a good game, love.”

Karl mumbles something like a goodbye and hangs up before Anders can reply. The response stings Anders more than it should. With a quick glance at the time, he decides to run some errands and grab lunch along the way. Anything to keep his mind occupied until he has to report to the ballpark. He only hopes the day will pass quickly.

The night seems to take forever to arrive, and Anders is lying on the couch, impatiently flipping through the channels when his phone finally rings. He picks it up after half a ring, not caring if it makes him look overeager.

“Hey, love,” he answers, smiling.

“Hey,” Karl greets in return. He doesn’t exactly sound like his usual self, but it’s better than the last few times they have spoken.

“I saw you guys won tonight,” Anders begins, hoping some small talk will pull him out of his shell. “Didn’t see the box score, though, did you pitch?”

“Nah,” Karl sighs. “I’m thinking of asking for a nicer chair in the ‘pen, though. My ass never seems to leave it, I might as well live in luxury.”

A laugh bursts out of Anders, more intensely than he expects. Karl is _joking_. He hasn’t heard the man like this in…he can’t remember how long. He grins at the phone, filled with delight.

“Make sure they put a little nameplate on it, too,” he plays along. “Otherwise you know everyone’s going to be fighting over it.”

Karl snorts. “Maybe that’s a good thing. They can all fight over the chair and I’ll actually get to pitch.”

Anders chuckles quietly, imagining the scene in his head. Complete with Karl sneaking away to the pitcher's mound. 

“How did your game go?” Karl asks, breaking into his thoughts.

“Um…” Anders has to think. He obviously hadn’t pitched, and he had been so consumed with their upcoming conversation that he hadn’t really been paying attention to anything else.

“It was…good,” he finally replies.

“You did show up, right?” Karl asks suspiciously.

“Yeah, yeah,” Anders chuckles. “I was just a little distracted, you know? Thinking about talking to you tonight.”

“Ah,” comes the quiet reply.

There’s a small pause, and Anders can hear Karl moving around in the background. Possibly getting something to drink, judging by the clank of glass.

“So, um,” Karl continues, hesitantly. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Anders freezes, swallowing the lump of foreboding that has risen in his throat.

“Yeah?” he asks, hoping he sounds casual.

“I, ah…I think I’m going home for most of the off-season,” Karl says. He is quiet, almost apologetic.

“Well, I figured you would for a few weeks or something,” Anders replies, slightly confused. “But _most_ of the off-season? Karl, that’s a long—“

“I know how long it is,” Karl interrupts. “I just…I think I need some time away from the game. To be normal for a while.”

“You are normal,” Anders argues. “What are you talking about?”

“I don’t want to fight about it,” Karl replies, weary. “I’ve already made up my mind. I just…thought you should know.”

Anders is silent, trying to turn the revelation over in his head. Karl will go home, to his family and friends. A "normal" life. One that might not have room for him in it.

“What about me?” he asks. His voice is smaller, more pleading than he intended. “Can I come visit? I’d love to meet your parents and see where you—“

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Karl cuts him off firmly.

“Well, why not?” Anders demands. “I’m not talking about moving in, but going almost five months without seeing you?”

“You know my parents don’t _know_ ,” Karl responds angrily. “I just…can’t. Can’t risk it. I know how they are, they're going to be on my case enough as it is."

“What are you _talking_ about?”

“Nothing,” Karl murmurs. He takes a breath and lets out a forced laugh. “You know. I don’t have a girlfriend, don’t ever mention anyone, I haven't 'settled down,' stuff like that. They probably think I took a vow of celibacy.”

“Well, I can confirm _that’s_ not true,” Anders snorts.

“That’s exactly my point,” Karl quietly responds. “I can’t have you there to give them any hint that anything's going on. You just...don't understand."

"Then  _help_ me understand." 

"You don't know my parents!" Karl explodes. "There's so much...so much  _pressure_. Nothing I ever do is good enough. You wouldn't believe the shit they've put me through, and then to spring  _this_ on them, on top of everything else?"

The words are spewing out of his mouth now, nothing Anders can do to stem the flow so he remains silent and lets the other man get it out of his system.

"They're some of the most fucking closed-minded, obstinate people I have ever met." Karl takes another deep breath and it seems to sober him as he lets out an audible sigh and goes silent. 

"I mean, I love them, don't get me wrong," he continues. "And I know I shouldn't care what they think at this point in my life. I'm not a fucking kid anymore, I can do what I want. But I know this would just...I don't want to imagine their reaction. It would ruin my life."

Anders is stunned, unable to answer, his chest tightening as the words echo through his head.

_Ruin his life_.

The rational part of him knows it's just hyperbole, but the words still cut deeper than they should. Guilt surges through his body, reading into the unspoken words he's sure Karl was trying to convey.  _Anders_ is ruining his life. 

“I think I need to go,” he says, barely choking out the words.

“Anders, wait,” Karl pleads. “Shit, I didn’t mean it like that…”

“I know how you meant it,” Anders whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Karl cries in exasperation. “Anders…”

“For everything,” Anders cuts in. “I guess I didn’t realize…I don’t know. Anything. I didn’t know I was hurting you just by being in your life. I…I need some time to process that.”

“Anders, please, it’s not like that.” Karl sounds like he's on the verge of tears.

“I love you,” Anders quietly replies. “But I need to hang up now.”

“Text me tomorrow?” Karl pleads. “Anders, I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, love,” Anders murmurs. “I just need time to think.”

They say their goodbyes, Anders staring at his phone for a moment before rolling over and burying his face in the pillows. He wants to scream or cry or do _something_ , but nothing comes out.

He gives in to sleep when it comes, hoping that the morning will offer the solutions that his mind cannot.

* * *

Anders doesn’t call or message Karl until Tuesday, three days later. The other man is frantic, sending sporadic, panicked texts once or twice a day, begging to talk. Anders’ only reply is to tell him to stop, that he will contact Karl when he's ready. Karl refuses to listen, sending messages with the same regularity and fretfulness.

Anders' next start is a mess. He has no control of his pitches and is pulled after the 4th inning, much to his annoyance, although he knows he can't blame anyone except himself. He continually looks around the dugout for Karl’s reassuring gaze, mood only dropping lower after each mistaken glance.

He sends Karl a brief text as he gets changed after their loss, pointedly ignoring the barely hidden glares and comments from his teammates.

**Anders:** _talk tonight?_

He doesn’t expect a reply right away, assuming the Rebels’ game is still going on, but he gets one as he steps through his front door only a short time later.

**Karl:** _just got home, call whenever you’re ready_

Anders sighs. He really doesn't think he's ready for this conversation, but he selfishly needs to hear Karl’s voice after his performance tonight. He might as well get it over with. Karl picks up after one ring.

“Hey,” he says, somewhat breathlessly.

“Hey, yourself.” Anders can’t help but smile, just hearing his voice. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” Karl replies cautiously. “You?”

“I pitched like shit tonight,” Anders snorts. “But, you know, other than that…”

“Oh, man,” Karl laments. “I didn’t get a chance to check the scores, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing I can do now,” Anders sighs as he makes himself comfortable on the couch.

“Yeah,” Karl murmurs. Anders can hear him take a deep breath before he speaks again.

“So, um…” Karl coughs nervously. “You have off Thursday, right?”

“Yes…” Anders drawls. “Why?”

“I want to see you.”

Anders sighs, closing his eyes. While there's no game on Thursday, it’s also the day before they can potentially clinch the championship. Practice will be optional, most men left to their own training routines. Anders has to be ready in the event they want him to pitch on short rest. There’s no way he’ll be able to skip out.

Karl must sense his hesitation because he keeps talking.

“I’ll come there,” he propositions. “Practice is voluntary on off days at this point, so I could leave after the game Wednesday night and be back in time for the game on Friday.”

Anders still doesn’t reply, wanting so desperately to say yes, knowing he can have Karl back in his arms before he goes to sleep Wednesday night. But it also goes completely against the conversation he’s planning on having tonight and he knows that if he postpones it, as soon as he sees Karl all his resolve will crumble.

“I’m…not sure if that’s a good idea,” Anders finally replies, squeezing his eyes shut against the pain of the words.

“It’ll be fine,” Karl assures him. “Please, love. I don’t want to talk over the phone, I need to see you.”

Anders feels a wave of anger briefly wash over him. How many times has he begged Karl for this exact thing? Does the other man think he's so desperate to see him that he'll cave at the first chance Karl offers?

He sighs again, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He knows he _is_ that desperate to see Karl. Maybe it would be better to have the conversation in person, he rationalizes. He can see Karl’s reactions instead of guessing them, leaving nothing up to chance or mixed signals.

“Okay,” he relents. “But are you sure you want to leave after the game? You won't get here until really late...I don’t know if I like the idea of you driving here that tired.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Karl soothes. “I doubt I’ll be doing anything that night anyway.”

“Alright,” Anders replies, still uncertain. “But text me before you leave, so I have an idea when to expect you.”

“Will do,” Karl agrees. “So I’ll see you in about 27 hours?”

“Not that anyone’s counting,” Anders chuckles, Karl laughing with him.

* * *

Karl makes it to the apartment in less than three hours, texting Anders that he’s looking for parking but will be there momentarily. Anders had been dozing (unintentionally) on the couch but is instantly awake when he sees the message.

Only a few minutes later and a light knock comes at the door, Anders flinging it open to see his boyfriend’s face light up in happiness on the other side.

“Fuck, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Anders grins, pulling Karl into a long, heated kiss. Karl muffles a protest, gently pushing Anders farther into the apartment before kicking the door closed behind them. He finally pulls back, one hand still cupping Anders’ face. They stare at each other for a moment before Karl leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Anders’ lips once more.

“God, I missed you,” Karl murmurs, wrapping his arms around Anders' neck and resting their foreheads together.

“You’re telling me,” Anders chuckles in response. He lets his hands drag down Karl’s back, enjoying the brief shudder that comes as he moves lower.

He gives Karl another lingering kiss, less heated than the first but still hopefully conveying his intentions.

“Can I show you how much I missed you?” Anders whispers with a grin as he slides his hands into the back of Karl’s pants. The other man groans, involuntarily thrusting his hips forward as he grips Anders’ hips.

“Fuck yes.”

* * *

It’s not until early the next morning that he finally broaches the subject he’s been avoiding. They’re lying in bed, languidly touching each other through bits of conversation when Anders brings it up.

“So, are you really going home right after the season’s done?”

Karl sighs quietly, burrowing his head into the crook of Anders’ neck as he wraps an arm around Anders’ waist.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “I think I need it.”

“Karl.” Anders gently disentangles the man from his body so they’re face to face. Karl gnaws at his lip, eyes downcast as Anders studies him.

“Is something going on?”

“Like what?” Karl asks, brow furrowing.

“You tell me,” Anders replies patiently. “A few weeks ago I was under the impression you’d be staying with me. I think I’m going to buy that place near Haven that I liked, by the way. And now it’s like…I don’t know, you want nothing to do with me?”

“It’s not like that,” Karl insists, shaking his head. “I just need to get away from all…this.”

He makes a vague waving motion with his hand, gesturing around the room.

“From my apartment?” Anders frowns. “That’s why I’m buying a new place, love. Out in the middle of nowhere, it’ll be great.”

“Not that,” Karl sighs. “Baseball. I told you, I just need to go back to a normal life for a while.”

"But..." Anders begins. He knows he needs to say this delicately. "The way you talked about your parents before...I don't know, it doesn't make much sense to me. Why you would want to rush back to them, you know?"

"It's complicated," is Karl's feeble reply. "I just thought maybe I could...I don't know, go back to before all this and-"

“Before you realized you were gay?”

Karl cringes at Anders’ bluntness, the redness creeping into his face.

“I didn’t say that,” he replies quietly.

“You basically did,” Anders shrugs. “You need to go back to your life before this season. And before me.”

“That’s not fair…”

“Life's not fair,” Anders retorts. “If it was, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation because you wouldn’t be terrified to tell your parents you’re in love with another man.”

“You can’t _force_ this decision on me,” Karl cries, sitting up in bed. “ _I’m_ the one that has to live with the consequences, not you. You don’t have to worry about—“

He bites his tongue, cutting off his train of thought before the words slip out of his mouth but Anders knows where it is going.

“I don’t have to worry about being cut off from my family because I don’t have a family to begin with,” Anders finishes for him. “I get it, Karl. I have nothing to lose.”

Anders stretches, turning away from his boyfriend for a moment to collect himself. He doesn’t want the conversation to get out of hand and result in him saying something he doesn't mean in a fit of anger. He knows Karl isn't trying to make him feel bad, and it's only his own resentful mind that's making him react this way. He doesn't want to make the situation worse than it is.

He turns back to see Karl staring at him sadly, trying to think of something to say, and it wipes away whatever biting remark he has on the tip of his tongue. The scared, nervously hopeful look on his boyfriend's face finally snaps him out his self-centered brooding.

“The only thing I have to lose is you,” Anders whispers instead, giving him a small smile. “So you do what you need to do, love. I’ll be here.”

Karl’s face crumples at the words, a choked sob escaping his throat as he curls up in Anders’ arms once again. Anders holds him tight, whispering soothing noises as Karl finally lets out the stress and worry that must have been plaguing him for weeks. Anders feels his own tears spill down his face as he presses a kiss onto the top of Karl’s head.

“I’m so sorry,” Karl rasps out once he has finally calmed down enough to speak again. Anders hands him a box of tissues, which Karl gratefully takes with a sigh.

“You don’t deserve someone like me,” Karl says after a moment. His face is still red and puffy, and he looks exhausted.

“You’re right, I don’t,” Anders agrees. Karl looks stricken for a moment, not expecting Anders to actually accept his words, but a look of resignation quickly replaces it.

“You’re better than I deserve,” Anders clarifies. He smiles, wiping away another stray tear from the corner of Karl’s eye. “You don’t see yourself how I see you, love. You don’t know how amazing you are.”

“Then maybe I should say I don’t deserve someone like you,” Karl replies quietly with a small smile of his own.

“How about,” Anders begins, giving Karl a brief kiss. “We both agree that we’re perfect for each other, and…”

He reaches over, running a hand down Karl’s bare side and over his ass, giving it a quick slap that brings a surprised laugh out of Karl’s mouth before Anders smothers it with another kiss.

“And?” Karl smiles as Anders pulls back, giving him a squeeze.

“And you let me convince you how incredible you really are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The (brief) introduction of our favorite catcher! Don't worry, he will feature very prominently in the later chapters of the story. I'm excited to hear what you all think of him in this fic.
> 
> I might only be updating once a week now that school is back, but I'll try to get them out sooner if I can! Longer chapters = more editing = a lot more time, so it's a little more difficult. 
> 
> And thank you all again for reading and your support <3 Don't forget, you can find me on [tumblr](http://draco-illius-noctis.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/woofyhawke).


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated tags (please tell me if I'm missing any). 
> 
> This was a tough one.

He remembers their first offseason together.

The rest of the season goes by in a blur.

They spend one last weekend together, packing up Anders’ apartment for his move and enjoying the uninterrupted time alone.

“You know…” Karl begins one evening. He is absentmindedly moving his food around on his plate, not actually eating – but not looking at Anders, either.

“I was thinking…maybe I could help you move,” he casually remarks, still not looking up. “My family can wait another few days until I get there, and it’ll be tough for you to do all this alone.”

It wouldn’t, in reality, considering Anders doesn’t own much, but he isn’t going to dissuade the man when it’s what he’s been secretly longing for ever since Karl mentioned his return home.

“You know I’d welcome the help, love,” Anders responds, hoping he doesn’t sound too eager. “But only if you’re sure.”

Karl looks up then, face breaking into a hopeful grin.

“Yeah?”

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” Anders nods.

Karl lets out a contented sigh, and with a smile, finally begins to eat.

* * *

The move into the secluded, modest home outside of Haven goes smoothly. Autumn has cooled the air considerably, and it’s to a backdrop of orange, yellow, and red falling leaves that they work. They spend the evening on the covered back porch, curled up together under a blanket with mugs of hot cider as they take in the landscape.

“This place is going to be gorgeous when it snows,” Karl murmurs, resting his head on Anders’ shoulder.

Anders places a small kiss on his forehead, smiling.

“You’ll have to come back and see it, then.”

Karl murmurs something non-committal, and Anders doesn’t push. He’s happy with the little extra time together he’s been blessed with.

They make love several times that night, Anders determined to memorize every inch of his lover’s body before he leaves. Karl seemingly has the same idea, urging Anders into more when the other man would have stopped. He isn’t complaining.

“I don’t want to go,” Karl whispers as they’re finally drifting off.

“Stay with me, love,” Anders murmurs in response, but when he looks, Karl has already fallen asleep.

Karl leaves two days later, early in the morning in preparation for his six-hour drive home. Anders hugs him tight, only breaking the embrace when Karl wrestles himself free. With shining eyes, they restate their promises to speak often. Anders reluctantly lets him go, standing barefoot with his hands in his jeans pockets as he watches the car disappear down the road.

The house immediately feels empty. Far less welcoming without the sunshine Karl brings into his life. He debates having another cup of coffee but decides on bed instead. He sees that Karl has forgotten a shirt in his haste to pack, and Anders gathers it to his nose, inhaling the scent. He gets into bed, and clutching the shirt in his arms, goes back to sleep.

* * *

The weeks are lonely.

Anders spends much of his time working out. He meets with one of his former college pitching coaches a few times, going over his mechanics. He sets up a pitching cage in his backyard to practice, then moves it to his basement when the cold gets to be too much.

There’s a bar in Haven that he frequents every once in a while, but he finds that without friends or the intention of picking anyone up, it’s basically just drinking alone. He can do that at home. He begins stopping at the liquor store instead of the bar, finding it much easier to pass out on his couch rather than worry about a drive home. His socializing becomes limited to small talk at the store or the sparse neighbors he passes on his jogs.

And Karl.

They don’t talk often. Karl still lives with his parents and isn’t afforded much privacy. They text more frequently than they speak, but even then, Karl is cautious. He has two younger brothers who idolize him, constantly looking over his shoulder and demanding to know who the girl is that can make him smile at his phone like that. They take bets, deciding that she has to be a blonde with a killer body. Karl just smiles and shrugs mysteriously, silently amused with how close they are to the truth.

In the few, too brief conversations they’re afforded, Anders showers him with affection, Karl bashfully refuting him. Anders not-so-subtly pleas for Karl to come visit, but there are always excuses.

Christmas looms on the horizon, Anders only realizing this fact when he walks into the supermarket one day to see the aisles crammed with overpriced “necessities” for the holiday season. He ignores it.

After a while, however, he begins to wonder if he should get Karl a gift. He eventually decides against it. Not for lack of want – he would give Karl the world if he could – but because he knows it would sit as a lonely reminder of what he’s missing until they’re reunited in the spring. He can wait until then to give his lover whatever he desires.

He gets a call the week before Christmas, surprised when he sees Karl’s name on the screen.

They make small talk for a bit, Anders curious but not asking for the reason behind the unexpected call. He’s just happy to hear his boyfriend’s voice. Karl doesn’t leave him in the dark for long, however.

“What are you doing for the holidays?” he asks, somewhat nervously, after a short pause.

“No plans,” Anders replies. “I don’t even have a tree up.”

Karl only hums in acknowledgment, and things grow silent between them once more. Anders hates the annoyance that begins to creep into his mind. Karl _knows_ he doesn’t celebrate, doesn’t have anyone to celebrate _with_. Why is he asking?

“Worried that I picked up a hot date for Christmas?” he asks lightly, opting for humor instead.

“No,” Karl chuckles. “I, um…would you maybe want to spend it with me?”

“You want to come here for the holidays?” Anders asks, delighted.

“No,” Karl clarifies. “I meant come here. I may have...talked about you a few times.”

He lets out an embarrassed chuckle, and Anders feels his own cheeks flush as Karl continues.

“I mentioned to my parents the other night that you were spending the holidays alone and they…I don’t know, they probably wouldn’t mind if I invited you for the week. If you wanted, obviously. You don’t have to…”

 _He’s nervous_ , Anders thinks, smiling to himself.

“We have a guest room,” Karl quickly continues once Anders doesn’t reply. “So you won’t have to worry about a hotel or anything. And, you know, I can show you around and stuff during the day so you’re not bored, and—“

“Karl, I’d love to,” Anders interrupts with a small laugh.

“Yeah?” Karl exhales in relief. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Anders confirms. The excitement is already beginning to rise in his chest, and he rushes to his calendar to see how many days it will be until he can leave.

“You can come on the 23rd, if you want,” Karl begins to explain enthusiastically. “We have a party on Christmas Eve and then a dinner on Christmas Day. And then we have the whole week to hang out and decide what we want to do on New Year’s Eve.”

Anders laughs.

“As long as I’m kissing you when the clock strikes midnight, I don’t care.”

* * *

Anders rushes out the next day to buy some small gifts for Karl and his family, mostly as a thank you for their hospitality. Karl already casually mentioned that he bought Anders something small, saving Anders from the awkwardness of asking.

He spends the next four days in anxious excitement, barely able to sit still. He forces himself to run even though it’s far too cold, just to wear himself out enough to sleep. He’s slightly worried about Karl’s parents’ reaction to having him there, wondering exactly what Karl has told them of him, and he researches hotels in the area just in case. Plus, he tells himself, judging by the general impression he has of Karl’s family, he’s not entirely sure _he’s_ going to want to stay there the entire week.

He's is on the road bright and early on the 23rd, hoping to get to Karl’s by noon if the traffic isn’t bad.

It’s with barely restrained enthusiasm that he leaps out of the car once he finally arrives. Karl – who must have been waiting near the door, having flung it open _that_ quickly – rushes out to greet him. They embrace for a long few moments in the driveway until they remember themselves, Karl taking a quick step back as he glances around.

“Come in,” Karl says, somewhat breathlessly with a grin. “I’ll introduce you to everybody.”

Karl’s parents are friendly, but reserved. He’s introduced as Karl’s best friend and occasional roommate. His parents don’t seem to particularly care, his mother especially giving him a scrutinizing once-over, and Anders begins to wonder exactly how enthusiastic they are about his presence. His brothers are a little more excited, although judging by the glares Karl shoots them they've been warned not to overwhelm the other man.

Karl politely pulls him away after a few minutes of small talk with the excuse of showing him to his room and letting him put his things away. Anders can sense the nervousness radiating off of his boyfriend and begins to tell an over-dramatized story about the traffic during his trip, requiring Karl to do little more than laugh until they make it to the room on the second floor.

As soon as they’re alone Anders pulls him into a corner and gives him a chaste but lingering kiss. He grins as Karl pulls away, blushing and shaking his head.

“You can’t _do that_ ,” he chastises the other man, although he’s smiling. Anders only grins wider, shrugging sheepishly.

“Seriously,” Karl warns. “We just…we’ll have some alone time, eventually. Until then, keep it in your pants.”

Anders sighs, melodramatically flopping on the bed.

“I’ll try,” he pouts. “It’s just really, really, _really_ hard not to touch you right now.”

Karl’s expression softens and he smiles again, gesturing towards the door.

“Come on,” he prods. “Let me show you the rest of the house.”

* * *

By a stroke of luck, Karl’s parents have a holiday party to attend for Mr. Thekla’s job and will be out that evening. His brothers, having no desire to be cooped up in the house, decide to head to the movies. Anders politely listens to the plans, praying that Karl doesn’t volunteer them to join in.

“I think we might just hang out here,” Karl says before looking at Anders. “Unless you want to go out and do something? There’s a pretty decent pub in town, if you feel like it.”

Anders can tell he’s only asking to keep up appearances.

“Sorry to be a wet blanket, but I’m pretty beat,” he says, smiling apologetically. “I’d kind of just like to chill here tonight.”

Everyone goes their separate ways after a while, and the pair gives it about half an hour to make sure no one returns unexpectedly before they make their way to Karl’s room. As much as he wants to spend the entire evening repeating their last night together, Anders knows time is a factor and settles for stroking them both to completion while sprawled on Karl’s bed.

“Fuck, I missed you,” he sighs after they clean up and redress. They’re lying tangled together on top of the sheets, ready to spring up at the first noise downstairs.

“Same,” Karl murmurs, eyes already drifting closed.

Anders takes the opportunity to look more closely around the room, smiling at the remnants of Karl’s childhood scattered on the walls and shelves. There are framed newspaper articles, photos with beaming coaches and his parents, trophies, and all of the other tokens of an exceptionally talented child with a bright future.

It’s not until his eyes land on the table that he frowns, nudging his boyfriend awake.

“Are you sick?” he asks quietly. Karl frowns, looking at him in confusion.

“The pill bottles,” Anders clarifies, pointing to the table where a few orange prescription bottles litter the area.

“Oh,” is all Karl says, folding into himself somewhat in embarrassment.

“What is it, love?” Anders asks, worry seeping into his voice. “Please, tell me.”

Karl seems to collect himself, pulling Anders into a soft kiss before smiling at him.

“It’s nothing,” he replies. “I’ve just been seeing a guy over the break. Getting me into the right headspace and stuff again, that’s all.”

“And you need pills to do that?”

“It helps,” Karl shrugs. “That and therapy.”

“Physical therapy?”

Karl hesitates for a moment, biting his lip before shaking his head.

“No, love,” he says softly. “Like with a psychiatrist.”

He sits up, prompting Anders to join him. Karl looks around the room, finally settling on the pill bottles. He scoops them up, turning them over in his hands. He begins tossing them one by one to Anders, describing their intended purposes.

Anders studies them silently for a moment before looking up into Karl’s nervous gaze. He places the bottles down before shifting onto his side and pulling Karl down with him, where he promptly curls back up into Anders’ arms.

“Are you okay?” he asks. He presses a soft kiss to Karl’s forehead, unsure what he’s supposed to say.

“I think I will be,” Karl answers truthfully.

Anders opens his mouth to ask something else and promptly closes it. Karl catches the action, however, and looks up at him.

“Just ask,” he says with a smirk. “Get it out of your system now.”

“Sorry,” Anders grins, ducking his head a little. “I just…how long have you been feeling like this?”

“Since I was 16,” Karl promptly replies.

“Wait, what?” Anders shifts again, looking at Karl with wide eyes. “Shit...and I didn’t even notice? God, you must think I’m such an asshole…”

“No, love, it’s fine,” Karl shushes him. “I haven’t been on medication for a couple of years. I was handling it well on my own.”

“Then why…” Anders starts, frowning as he thinks. When did he start noticing the change in Karl’s personality?

“You were handling it up until you got transferred,” Anders finishes, the realization dawning on him.

Karl shrugs.

“I guess? I can’t really pinpoint when it started. It’s not always easy to tell when I’m just having a bad week or it’s something…else.”

“And this is something else,” Anders says, more a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Karl nods. “I just…you know I’m kind of introverted to begin with, so going to a new place, with new people and all this _pressure_ suddenly on me and having no support system—“

“You had me!” Anders cries. “Love, you always have me.”

Karl shakes his head.

“We were both busy and distracted,” he says. “And you were far away. It isn’t…it’s hard for me to talk about it to begin with, and I didn’t think you would understand.”

The bluntness of the statement stings, but part of Anders knows it’s the truth. He tries to think back to their conversations over that last month and a half of the season, and they suddenly take on a different light. He knew Karl wasn’t acting like himself, but he assumed the other man was just lonely. And Anders, assuming _he_ was the answer to the problem, did nothing but try to force himself into Karl’s bed.

“Fuck,” he sighs, rolling over.

“I’m sorry,” Karl immediately apologizes, shifting over so as not to lose body contact. He cups Anders’ face in his hand, tilting it toward his.

“Please don’t be mad at me,” he begs.

Anders twists his head to kiss Karl’s palm before taking it into his own.

“I’m not mad, love,” he murmurs. “I just feel like shit for not being there for you when you needed me.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” Karl sighs.

“I made myself feel bad,” Anders smiles. “But I’m glad you told me. Now I know that sex isn’t always the answer.”

Karl’s snort turns into a laugh, and once he catches sight of Anders’ perplexed smile, into an outright laughing fit. Anders just grins, enjoying the sight of his boyfriend so amused. He rolls them over after a moment, straddling Karl’s lap as he bends down to plant tickling kisses along his neck.

“I don’t know what’s so funny,” he pouts, pressing another kiss below Karl’s chin.   

“Sex is literally your answer for _everything_ ,” Karl laughs again, clinging to Anders’ shirt.

“Lies!” Anders gasps. He reaches down and pinches Karl’s side, sending the other man into another peal of laughter.

“’My curveball isn’t curving! Come on, Karl, let’s go fuck and see if it gets better,’” Karl mimes in his best Anders voice. “’I didn’t like my dinner! Let me blow you, Karl, I’ll feel better.’”

“Sounds like you’re the one on the winning end of the deal, then,” Anders grins. He rolls onto his back, Karl rolling with him so he’s now the one straddling Anders’ hips.

“’Karl, your hair isn’t perfect today, you might as well suck me off so I can mess it up more,’” Karl teases again. He leans down, drawing Anders into another kiss.

“I absolutely do not sound like that,” Anders murmurs. He pulls Karl down until the other man is flush with his body, wrapping his arms around Karl’s waist.

They remain that way in silence for a few moments, chests rising and falling together. Anders thinks Karl may have fallen asleep on him, but he stirs a moment later, propping his chin on Anders’ chest.

“We should probably straighten ourselves up,” he mutters, looking like it’s the last thing he actually wants to do.

“Can I sneak into your room after everyone falls asleep?” Anders teases. He drums his fingers up and down Karl’s back. “Fool around a little? It’ll be fun.”

Karl snorts in response, slipping away to stand next to the bed and straighten his clothes. He gathers up the pill bottles strewn on the covers and places them back on the table, tossing an errant pillow at Anders in the process.

“Come on,” he says, heading for the door. He stops in the doorway and glances over his shoulder at his boyfriend. “Let’s order a pizza or two and pretend I’m not going to blow you before bed.”

Anders bolts upright, eyes wide.

“Wait, really?” he shouts, scrambling out of bed to follow. “No, Karl, wait up!”

* * *

Karl has a large family, and after a few hours around the loud, boisterous group Anders is suddenly thankful – for one of the only times in his life – that this is not something he has to put up with on a regular basis. Judging from the nervous fidgeting that Karl’s been plagued with the entire evening, he’s feeling much the same way.

The group is welcoming, however, drawing Anders into conversation and treating him as if he’s one of the family. That doesn’t, however, stop Karl from taking the first opportunity to solicit help from the other man in the kitchen for a brief moment of peace.

“God,” Karl sighs, slumping against the counter with his eyes closed. “Somehow, I thought this would be _less_ exhausting with you here.”

Anders grins, fussing with some glasses in the event anyone walks in.

“I’m glad you said it and not me,” he chuckles.

“Are you regretting your visit yet?”  

“And miss out on spending time with you?” Anders lifts an eyebrow in disbelief. “I’ll put up with ten of these things.”

Karl laughs again, although Anders can see the faint blush rising in his cheeks.

“Don’t jinx us,” he warns. He wanders over to Anders, letting his fingers brush across the other man’s back before briefly leaning over his shoulder.

“I need plenty of alone time with you,” Karl murmurs. “Don’t give them any ideas.”

He continues to the refrigerator, shooting Anders a playful grin. Anders follows, leaning casually next to the fridge as Karl roots around inside.

“’Need,’ huh?” he muses.

“Don’t get a big head,” Karl laughs, tossing a lemon at him. “And hold that.”

A couple of Karl’s older aunts corner them once they return to the party, giving them sly grins that make Anders uneasy.

“So, Anders,” one of the women drawls, resting a hand on his arm. “Are you seeing anyone, or are you a determined bachelor like our Karl?”

“I’m seeing someone,” Anders confirms with a smile. He can hear Karl choke on his drink in the background. There’s a mixture of “awww’s” and good-natured disappointed clucking from the women.

“Does she have a friend?” a different aunt asks. And then, as if for clarification, she adds, “For Karl.”

“Karl goes out with me sometimes,” Anders replies, forcing himself not to look at the other man, although he can feel the daggers Karl must be shooting in his direction.

“He’s quite charming,” he continues, all innocence. “He won me over the first day I met him.”

He does turn, then, to see Karl blushing furiously behind him, staring into his glass with a small smile.

“And now he’s stuck with me,” Anders finishes. Karl looks up then, and Anders winks briefly before turning back to the women.

“Now,” he grins. “If any of you _young_ ladies are looking for eligible bachelors, there are plenty I can introduce you to.”

Sufficiently distracted, the women all giggle and begin arguing amongst themselves over who should go first. Anders takes the opportunity to look back over at Karl, who is staring at him with such an unabashed look of adoration that Anders feels his own face grow warm. He gestures for Karl to fix his hair, if only to break the other man’s spell. Karl startles, mouthing a “sorry” at Anders before rubbing his head and looking away. Anders can’t help but smile to himself, eager to tease him about it once they’re alone.

The rest of their week goes by quickly – too quickly, in Anders’ opinion, and he knows Karl feels the same way. Karl shows him around, pointing out his childhood ballfield and other points of interest. They go out to dinner with his family one evening, and take his brothers out to a large arcade on another. Their days are usually full, and Anders enjoys the constant activity, but it also makes their time go by too fast.

He likes the nights best. He and Karl close themselves in Karl’s room under the pretext of playing video games late into the night before Anders sneaks back to his own room. It’s the only time they really allow themselves to relax, safe behind the locked door while everyone else sleeps. Anders spends hours tracing the contours of his boyfriend’s body while they sometimes talk, sometimes just gaze at each other in silence. Neither feels the need to keep up a conversation, just happy to have this time alone.

“Tomorrow’s New Year’s Eve,” Karl reminds him one evening. “Do you want to go out?”

“What do you normally do?” Anders asks in return.

They’re lying on the floor in a nest of blankets. Although Karl’s room is in the corner of the house, his bed is too loud to risk anyone hearing when they have sex. While not exactly comfortable, Anders secretly likes the rawness of it, of pressing his boyfriend’s face to the floor to smother his moans and the rug burn on his knees afterward. And moments like this, curled up in the small space between Karl’s bed and the wall, blankets draped over and under them as the sweat cools on their bodies.

“Depends,” Karl shrugs as he yawns, pulling Anders from his thoughts. “Sometimes I go out, sometimes I just hang here. Last year I went to the pub with a couple friends who were home for Christmas.”

Anders thinks for a moment.

“Well,” he says, “I don’t really care what we do.” He presses a small kiss to Karl’s bare shoulder. “As long as I can kiss you at midnight.”

“That might be tricky,” Karl admits. “Wherever we go, we’re going to be surrounded by people.”

“Then let’s find a place with no people,” Anders smiles, pulling his boyfriend closer. “Let’s do something on our own.”

“Yeah?” Karl asks hopefully, studying Anders’ face.

“Why not?” Anders chuckles. “Let’s start our own traditions.”

“Yeah,” Karl sighs happily. “Yeah, I like that.”

* * *

They spend part of the evening with Karl’s family before heading out around 10 p.m. They drive around for a while, indulging in greasy burgers, fries, and milkshakes as they make their way to their final destination. The last half hour of 2004 is spent huddled together on the hood of Karl’s car, on a hill overlooking the town.

Anders keeps an eye on the time on his phone, but it’s the fireworks suddenly erupting that alerts them that 2005 has arrived. They kiss as a shower of multicolored sparks fill the air, both grinning against the other’s lips.

“Happy New Year, love,” Anders murmurs, kissing Karl again briefly.

“2005’s going to be big,” Karl responds, resting his head on Anders’ shoulder.

“I can feel it.”

* * *

They both get calls a couple weeks later, formally inviting them to spring training with the Rebels. If they perform well enough, they can start the season in the big leagues.

Anders calls Karl immediately, but the other man doesn’t pick up. He has a moment of panic, wondering if Karl hasn’t gotten a call, but Karl calls back a short time later and shares in Anders’ excitement after confirming that he did.

Anders can barely contain his anticipation over the next week, quickly jumping back into the routine he had forgone while he was at Karl’s. His communication with his boyfriend lessens as they both (as far as Anders knows) begin to regain their focus before they’re due to fly out in five weeks.

Karl calls at the end of that week, Anders answering as he’s lacing up his sneakers.

“Hey, love,” he greets. “I’m just getting ready to go out for a run, can I call you back later?”

“I need you,” comes the wavering voice on the other end. Anders immediately stops what he’s doing, clutching the phone tighter to his ear.

“What’s wrong?” he demands. “Karl, what do you need?”

“Can I come stay with you for a while?” Karl asks, taking a shaky breath. “I’ll explain everything when I get there, I just need to leave.”

“Of course, love, of course,” Anders says immediately. “Do you need me to come get you? What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing,” Karl responds. Anders thinks he can hear doors slamming in the background. Or drawers. “I’m leaving now, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Karl?” There’s no response, just more slamming.

“Karl!” Anders shouts.

Karl makes a noise of acknowledgment but nothing more.

“Listen,” Anders demands. “Just be safe, okay? Take your time, rest if you need to. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Karl breathes. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you soon.”

He hangs up and Anders falls back on the couch, his run forgotten.

Karl arrives hours later, haggard but no worse for the wear. Anders’ nerves are worn thin, having paced around the house relentlessly ever since they got off the phone. He runs outside as soon as he hears the car pull up.

Karl gets out of his car, giving Anders a wan smile. Anders pulls him into his embrace immediately.

“Shit, you scared me,” he murmurs. He steps back, holding Karl at arm’s length to look him over. “Are you okay?”

“I could use something to drink,” Karl replies with a shrug. “I didn’t feel like stopping.”

Anders glances into Karl’s car, noticing the bags and loose pieces of equipment flung into the backseat. He looks at the other man questioningly, but says nothing, turning with one arm still around his shoulders to escort him into the house.

Karl shucks his coat and sits heavily on the couch as soon as they enter, head in his hands. Anders silently fills a glass with water and places it on the table in front of Karl, taking a seat next to him. He doesn’t want to push Karl to speak until he’s ready, even with his body still coursing with worry.

“I told my parents,” Karl finally says without removing his hands.

Anders frowns. “Told them what?”

Karl whips his head around, looking at Anders in disbelief.

“I _told_ them,” he repeats. Anders' stomach sinks as the realization slowly begins to dawn on him.

“They didn’t take it well?” he manages to ask.

Karl shakes his head, biting his lip as his face scrunches up, bouncing one leg erratically.

“They, um…” he begins in a shaky voice.

Anders reaches over to rest his hand on Karl’s knee, squeezing it in reassurance. Karl is quiet for another moment, and Anders tries to be patient.  

“No,” Karl eventually says. “It didn’t go well. I don’t really want to talk about it all now.”

“What did they say?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You can’t keep this pent up, Karl,” Anders sighs in frustration.

“I’m not keeping it pent up,” Karl shoots back. “I just _don’t want to talk about it_ right now.”

“Karl…”

“My mother started crying,” Karl shouts, cutting him off. “She started crying, and my dad said I was killing her.”

The tears are rolling freely down his face now, and Anders sits silently in shock, playing the words over and over in his head.

“And then he said…if I killed her, he would kill me.”

He looks at Karl, red-faced and ashamed, and feels his own face grow hot with anger.

“Did he touch you?” Anders growls. “If he touched you, so help me God…”

“I don’t need you to protect me!” Karl explodes, jerking away. “I can take care of myself, Anders. Just because you’re better than me at everything else doesn’t mean I can’t handle my own problems, for fuck’s sake.”

He settles back down after a moment, head in his hands again as Anders remains rooted in his spot. The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and he can do little more than stare as a cold feeling of panic begins to replace the anger.

“I never said I was better—“

“Oh fuck off with that,” Karl scoffs, looking at him. “You _know_ you’re better than everyone. I don’t know what you’re even doing with me.”

Anders feels his chest tighten, the lump rising in his throat. _How could he even think…_

“Karl?” he starts, voice hoarse. He runs a hand down Karl’s back, feeling the man stiffen beneath him, but he refuses to move his hand away.

“Karl,” he begins again. “Why would you even _think_ that? You know I love you more than anything. You know I’d…”

He has to stop, swallowing deeply and trying to will himself to remain under control.

“You know I’d give up baseball if you wanted. I’d give up everything. _You’re_ what matters most to me. Just say the word.”

Karl finally looks at him then, disbelief clearly written on his face, but he allows Anders to take one of his hands. They stare at each other a long moment before Karl sighs, leaning back against the couch.

“Baseball is your life,” he murmurs, matter-of-factly. “You’d never give it up, and I’d never ask you to. I’m just saying, you could do better.”

He turns his head, giving Anders a sad little smile.

“Find a nice girl, settle down…have a little Anders or two. Maybe name one of them after me, if you’re feeling sentimental.”

Anders chokes out a sob, looking away. He forces himself to take a couple of deep breaths before looking back at his boyfriend, who is still gazing at him with a faraway look in his eyes.

“I don’t want a fucking ‘nice girl’ or any fucking kids,” Anders growls, gripping Karl’s hand tighter. “And the only one I want to settle down with is _you_ , you asshole. You’re it for me, don’t you see that?”

Karl just shrugs, closing his eyes and letting his head loll back to the middle.

“Karl, can you at least talk to me?” Anders pleads, near hysterics.

Karl opens his eyes after a moment, fixing Anders with a soft smile. He seems a little more himself, but his eyes still have that empty look in them. Something is still missing.

“I love you more than anything else on Earth,” Karl whispers, running his fingers down the side of Anders’ face. Anders clutches it, pressing a kiss to the palm before nuzzling it to his cheek.

“But you’re better off without me.”

Anders lets go of his hand, anger suddenly rising harsh and severe.

“How can you even fucking say this shit?” he shouts. Karl barely flinches, but he looks away.

“Did something else happen?” he demands. “Are you blaming me for this? This better not be your version of the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ breakup speech cause I’m not fucking falling for it.”

Karl stares at his hands, eyebrows furrowed and gnawing on his lip. He remains silent, and each second that goes by made Anders more and more sure he is right. He’s ready to just give up and let Karl figure this out by himself. But then he hears the other man mumble something unintelligible.

“I didn’t hear you,” Anders barks.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Karl repeats, louder. He looks at Anders, tears welling in his eyes again. “I don’t ever want you to leave. You’re the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

It only takes a second before Anders has him enveloped in his arms, Karl sobbing into his shoulder as Anders fights back his own tears. He presses kisses to the side of Karl’s head, running a soothing hand over his back as he holds him tighter.

“I love you,” Anders whispers over and over. “I love you, I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

Karl remains with Anders until it’s time to report for spring training. The mood has been tense, although Karl seems to relax the longer he’s there. He makes an attempt to reach out to his parents about a week after he arrives and is angrily shot down. Anders is forced to grab the phone out of his hand and hang it up before grabbing his boyfriend’s pills and leading him to bed until he calms down. Karl is a mess for days afterward, and Anders does all he can to put him at ease.

Anders sneaks the phone number of one of Karl’s brothers out of Karl’s phone and sends him a short text, feigning ignorance of the situation to ask if things are “okay at home.” The response that comes basically says for Anders to mind his own business and Anders doesn’t push it. Karl receives a much less antagonistic text from the same brother a day later, and it seems to help.

It’s after Karl has received another such text that Anders broaches the subject that’s been on his mind ever since Karl arrived.

“Love?” he asks gently, sitting next to his lover on the couch. Karl looks at him expectantly, placing his drink on the table.

“Does your family…” Anders begins. Karl tenses at the words automatically.

“Does your family know about…us?”

Karl looks away quickly, worrying his bottom lip. Eventually, he shakes his head no.

“I don’t think so.”

Anders relaxes a bit, but Karl shoots him a nervous glance.

“I mean…they did ask,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“They asked,” Karl repeats. “They asked if we were fucking – not in those words – and I told them no.”

Anders deflates, and he’s unsure if he’s relieved or disappointed in the words. He takes Karl’s hand, running his thumb over the top.

“You could have,” he murmurs, not meeting Karl’s eyes because he’s not quite sure he isn’t lying. “I told you I’m not ashamed of you.” That, at least, he’s sure of.

Karl steals his hand back and stands, picking up his glass as he walks to the kitchen without another word. Anders follows, confused.

“Karl?”

“I don’t think they believed me, if it’s any consolation to you,” Karl mutters, placing the glass a little harder than needed in the sink.

“I’m not saying you were wrong,” Anders sighs. “I’m just saying…I don’t know, if you wanted to blame me…”

Karl turns and looks at him, his face a mixture of hurt and disbelief.

“And say what?” he asks, barking out a laugh. “That I thought I was straight until you seduced me? That it’s your fault I like having a dick in my mouth? What the fuck, Anders?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Anders replies, face reddening. “I just want whatever’s easiest for you. And if it’s better to—“

“ _None_ of this is easy,” Karl growls. “And, God…I haven’t even thought of the team yet.”

“What about them?”

“Nothing,” Karl sighs, rubbing his forehead. “We just…we really need to stay on top of things this year. I don’t think my family will say anything, but I can’t take the chance that someone might pick up on our relationship and you _know_ we can’t let this get out--“

“Karl,” Anders interrupts, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Stop and take a breath.”

Karl does as he’s told, furrowing his brow as he tries to head off his anxiety before it crests too high.

“Look at me.”

It takes a moment for Karl to do so, but eventually he lifts his head to meet his boyfriend’s eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” Anders murmurs. He gives Karl a small smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not going to do anything to hurt you, you have to trust me. Even if it is nearly impossible to resist putting my hands all over you.”

Karl smiles slightly at that and Anders kisses him again, feeling his body begin to uncoil.

“You want to go out to a movie tonight?” he asks quietly. Karl’s face lights up, never one to say no to buttery movie theater popcorn.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Karl agrees, somewhat reluctantly. “We should see something funny.”

Anders pouts, giving him his best puppy dog eyes.

“But I like seeing the scary ones. Then you hide your face in my shoulder and I can kiss it.”

Karl grins, smacking him playfully. “You can do that here. Let me enjoy my movie in peace.”

“You just want to hog all the popcorn.”

“You just want to hog _me._ ”

Anders laughs, pulling Karl back to him so he can plant a lingering kiss on his lips. He leans back slightly, grinning as he winds his arms around Karl’s shoulders.

“Can you blame me?” he teases.

“I already told you I’m not blaming you for anything,” Karl responds lightly, pressing another kiss to his lips. “So stop trying.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I want to clarify some stuff since it's going to be dealt with from here on out (it's about to get personal if you don't want to read more):
> 
>  
> 
> You may have realized before this chapter that Karl is mentally ill. I know everyone is different, but I'm drawing heavily on my own experiences with clinical depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideation. I, thankfully, survived two suicide attempts, and it's absolutely something that changes you. I still struggle with depression and anxiety, but I'm lightyears away from what I was a few years ago. I'm hoping that I'm representing his thoughts and feelings clearly and appropriately, but it's tough (for me, at least) to translate that mindset into words, cause I know at the time it was almost impossible for me to explain it to help people understand. 
> 
> If you've read a lot of my stuff, you've probably also noticed that a really big theme in most of my fics is coming out and coming to terms with family/friends/society's view of being "different." I'm not straight, and I'm also not out to most people I know IRL, including my family. While I don't think they would have as extreme a reaction as Karl's family, I've witnessed similar situations with friends and, honestly, it's a big reason why I can't take the step he did. 
> 
> I feel like I'm rambling a lot, sorry. I didn't mean for this to become a diary entry and I'm sorry if I'm laying too much on you all. I'm sort of defensive about this entire fic _because_ of this chapter and how much of myself I'm putting into it. Please don't think I'm looking for sympathy either, I'm really not comfortable with it and I rarely talk about this part of my life in public (online = public, right?), I just want people to understand. 
> 
> So, yeah. Anyway! NEXT CHAPTER IT'S KRISTOFF TIME. I know I gush about him constantly but I really love writing him in this universe lol. I want to be as awesome as Justice when I grow up. 
> 
> And thank you again for all your comments and encouragement (and yelling) and all that good stuff <3 I will provide hugs and ice cream as needed. I also want to mention I have a Discord now, so if that's something you're into and want to add me, I'm Gia1724#0421.
> 
> EDITED TO ADD: please don't feel like you can't discuss this chapter or the subject matter with me, that's pretty much the opposite of what I wanted! I've been debating since I posted the chapter whether or not to delete this note cause I felt like it might make people uncomfortable to talk about the actual content, so I want to assure you that's not the case. Karl has aspects of me in his character - just like Garrett and just like Anders - but he's his own person and we can discuss him without worrying about me. I want to know how the chapter made you feel, what you liked/didn't like, all that good stuff. Pretend I said nothing! ❤️ you all


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KRISTOFF!
> 
> No major tag updates. A much lighter chapter than the last.

He remembers their first real training season together.

Spring training comes quickly. Karl goes from nervous excitement to just plain nervous, and the entire drive to their camp is filled with anxious energy. They opt to drive together, using the excuse that Anders picked up Karl along the way (in case someone actually asks). Anders doesn’t expect anyone to notice or care, but Karl wants to have a story prepared for everything these days.

Anders is a hit almost as soon as they arrive. A few of their teammates from the minors have also been invited, already well aware of Anders' skill, so it's an unspoken contest with the others Anders engages in to prove his worth. He shows them all what he can do, cocky grin in place, and after a couple days of practice the men swarm him. They can sense greatness when they see it, and everyone sees greatness in Anders.

Karl smiles sadly, turning away to tighten the laces on his shoes as Anders is whisked away yet again without even a chance at a backward glance. He tries not to dwell on it, Anders more than willing to apologize with his body once they’re finally alone, but it becomes more and more difficult to watch each time it happens.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t see the shadow appear in front of him, and when he looks up, Kristoff is leaning against the edge of the dugout, staring at him.

“Hey,” Karl greets, giving him a genuine smile. “What’s up?”

Kristoff doesn’t respond, studying Karl until the main uneasily squirms under his gaze.

“You, uh, want to go throw?” Karl asks, nodding towards the field.

Kristoff shifts, turning his head towards the group that has kidnapped Anders and Karl follows his line of sight. They’re laughing in right field, Anders smack in the middle going through a stretching routine. Karl looks away quickly.

“Why aren’t you out there with them?”

Kristoff has turned his attention back to Karl, who doesn’t respond at first, choosing instead to study his glove.

“They didn’t ask,” he finally replies.

“You could have joined anyway.”

“I don't force myself where I’m not wanted.”

“Anders wants you.”

Karl looks up sharply, but Kristoff’s face remains impassive, still studying. Kristoff is one of the few to barely pay Anders any mind. Karl introduced the two on the first day of camp, wanting his boyfriend to meet the one man he considers a friend, but Anders barely had time to shake the catcher’s hand before he was dragged away. Kristoff seems less than impressed.

Karl only scoffs at the comment, shaking his head.

“You mean something to him,” Kristoff says, simply. No judgment, just a casual statement of fact.

“We’re good friends.”

Kristoff hums thoughtfully, looking back at Anders. It’s at that moment that Anders chooses to look back towards the dugout, giving Karl a small smile when their eyes lock. Kristoff turns to Karl, one eyebrow raised and the hint of a smirk on his lips.

Karl looks around the dugout, checking to make sure no one is in earshot before sighing, fixing his gaze on Kristoff.

“How much do you know?”

“Enough.”

“Can you stop being so cryptic?” Karl growls. “This is important.”

“That look alone told me all I needed to know,” Kristoff replies.

Karl sighs again, hanging his head.

“You can trust me.”

Karl looks up sharply, huffing out a laugh.

“No offense, but I trust _him_ and that’s about it,” he mutters.

“Perhaps it’s time you two share the burden.”

Karl is silent for a while, and Kristoff doesn’t offer anything more. They remain in the same spot, both staring out at the field as they watch the others practice. Karl is hit by a sharp sense of déjà vu, remembering this time last year when it was Anders here beside him, not the increasingly enigmatic Kristoff.

“Why do you want to help us?” Karl finally asks, turning back to the other man.

“I don’t know what kind of ‘help’ you are referring to,” Kristoff replies. “Are you in trouble?”

“No,” Karl shakes his head. “I just meant…what do you get out of this?”

“I do not make it a habit to gossip about my friends, if that is what you’re asking.”

Karl is struck for a moment, turning the words over in his head.

“You consider me a friend?”

“Do you not?” Kristoff asks, now letting the smile creep in.

“Yeah,” Karl says. He chuckles a bit. “I mean, I consider you a friend, but I didn’t know…you know. If you did.”

He wipes a hand down his face, shaking his head slightly as he grins.

“Sorry, I’m being weird. Yes, we’re friends.”

“Good,” Kristoff nods, satisfied. “Then as your friend, I suggest we go practice. Even your Anders doesn’t have a personal catcher.”

Karl laughs, a thrill running through him at the phrase.

“You can’t call him that, you know.”

Kristoff nods. “I only said it because I know no one is around. Friends also tease each other, I believe?”

Karl chuckles again, glancing back at Anders, who is now looking at the pair curiously. He grins wider, turning to face Kristoff.

“I think we made someone jealous,” he says.

Kristoff pats Karl on the back before tipping his hat briefly in Anders’ direction.

“Good.”

* * *

Anders thrives during the spring.

They all work hard, but Anders knows he has eyes on him - knows his star is on the rise and it invigorates him. Everyone knows he’s going to make it to the Rebels, the only question being how high up in the starting rotation he will be placed.

Karl performs admirably. His mechanics have improved through long hours practicing with Kristoff, and when he gets into games, he does well. The coaches are proud of him, and this helps. At least he knows someone is taking notice.

He’s also gotten his wish, as much as he regrets it. Anders doesn’t spend much time with him while they’re with the team, and many days the only times they speak are after waking up and before going to bed.

“You told me we had to be careful,” Anders insists one night after Karl brings it up. “I’m being careful.”

“Yeah, but…I don’t know, now you're just ignoring me,” Karl replies. “It’s starting to look more like you’re pissed than anything else.”

Anders grins and walks over to where Karl's leaning against the counter, cupping his face in his hands.

“How could anyone be mad at a face like this?” he purrs, giving him a brief kiss. Karl breaks his hold, rolling his eyes.

“You know what I mean,” he scoffs. “Even Kristoff said—“

“Here we go again,” Anders interrupts with a groan.

“What?”

“Kristoff this, Kristoff that, he’s all you ever talk about.” Anders frowns, almost a pout, but he turns away.

“You don’t want me to talk about my only friend?”

Anders whirls back around, hurt look on his face.

“What about me?” he asks. “I didn’t stop being your friend just because we’re dating.”

Karl looks at the ground, crossing his arms as he shifts slightly against the counter, thinking. He knows Anders is only doing what he asked, but some part of him didn't expect it to be this...severe. It was almost easier to interact constantly and just hope no one caught on. He knows they can't go back to that, but perhaps they can still make a compromise. 

“I’d like it if we practiced some together,” he eventually says, voice near a whisper.

Anders’ face lights up and he returns to his spot in front of his boyfriend, running his hands down Karl’s sides.

“Yeah?” he murmurs. Karl nods, finally allowing himself to smile.

“Just keep your hands to yourself.”

* * *

Anders seeks Karl out the next morning, finding the other man standing with Kristoff and chatting quietly while they stretch.

“Mind if I join you guys?” Anders asks, giving them his most charming smile.

Kristoff doesn’t respond, just looks between the two for a moment before nodding at Karl, deferring to his decision.

“Yeah,” Karl breathes out, breaking into a grin. “Of course.”

The trio gets a few odd looks from some of the other players - mostly the group that Anders had been practicing with - but no one makes a move to approach them or says anything. Karl is self-conscious about the situation, constantly looking over his shoulder, while Kristoff and Anders seemingly ignore it.

“He’s a good guy,” Anders says that evening. He’s sitting on the couch in their shared apartment, Karl reclining with his head in Anders’ lap.

“He’d work with you, too,” Karl says, tilting his face up to look at Anders. “If you wanted. He’s helped me a lot.”

“Maybe,” Anders smiles. “You two do work well together.”

It turns out that Kristoff works just as well with Anders, and the pitcher soon requests that Kristoff catch him every game. Kristoff approaches Karl after Anders’ announcement, finding him taking practice swings off a tee.

“Are you okay with this?” he asks Karl, quietly.

Karl shrugs, pushing down what feels like a mingling ball of jealousy and sadness.

“You guys work great together,” he replies. “Far be it for me to hold either of you back.”

Kristoff gives him a doubtful look, but Karl continues.

“Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to be the everyday catcher. You’ll be stuck with me anyway. If I make it, obviously.”

“You’re going to make it,” Kristoff smiles. “What did I tell you about doubting yourself?”

Karl huffs but eventually breaks into a smile, shaking his head.

“I know, _dad_ ,” he mocks. “Don’t worry, I’ve gotten better.”

Kristoff pats him on the back, squeezing his shoulder briefly.

“You’re sure?”

Karl frowns in confusion.

“That I’ve gotten better?” he asks. “Yeah, I think—“

“No,” Kristoff cuts him off. “I mean about Anders.”

“Oh,” Karl sighs. “I just…does it really matter what I think?”

“I don’t want this to be a cause of tension between you two. If you would like to speak to him about it first, or have me speak to the manager…”

“Nah,” Karl shakes his head. “I want what’s best for him. For you both. You two are great together, everyone can see that. I can't let my jealousy ruin that.”

He gives Kristoff another small smile.

“Just as long as you two don’t start a torrid love affair and run away together.”

Kristoff scrunches his face in horror, and it’s such an un-Kristoff-like expression that Karl can’t help but burst into laughter.

“I assure you,” Kristoff scoffs, “he’s not my type.”

It’s at that moment that one of their teammates calls out to them.

“Hey, Kris!” The man in question grimaces at the nickname. “Your boyfriend over here is getting lonely.”

“He’s not my type,” Anders shouts, echoing Kristoff’s words with a grin. Karl flinches slightly, trying not to look in Anders’ direction.

“You’re just jealous he’s cheating on you with Thekla,” the same teammate shoots back.

“ _He’s_ more my type.”

Karl looks up in horror to see Anders give the other man a challenging look, clearly not serious, but it’s enough to send a chill down his back.

“Awww, look, you’re making Thekla blush,” one of their other teammates hoots. “It’s those baby blues, isn’t it? Should we leave you two alone together?”

“Can you all stop acting like children?” Kristoff snaps, walking over to the group. Karl hadn’t even noticed him leave. The other men drift away and Kristoff grabs Anders’ elbow, pulling him off to the side. He looks like he’s yelling, or at least giving Anders a stern lecture. It’s hard to tell since that’s generally Kristoff’s demeanor. Anders, to his slight credit, looks like a kicked puppy, shooting Karl an apologetic glance that the other man ignores.

* * *

Anders apologizes that night, despite Karl telling him repeatedly that he doesn’t have to.

“I just got caught up in the moment,” he swears. He’s trying to shove his way into Karl’s line of sight as the other man puts the dishes away. “Love, I’m sorry.”

Karl sighs, slamming the cabinet harder than needed. He rubs his temples, willing himself to calm down before he says something he shouldn’t. He knows this overeager apology has something to do with whatever Kristoff said to Anders, but he doesn’t want to dwell on the subject.

“I told you, it’s fine,” Karl replies, not bothering to hide the impatience in his voice. “I know no one took you seriously, just relax.”

Anders growls in frustration, pushing himself off the counter to pace around the room instead.

“I just wish…” he starts, running a hand over his face.

“I know what you wish,” Karl cuts him off before he can continue. “I changed my mind…maybe we shouldn’t practice together.”

All the anger drains out of Anders’ body, and he turns to his boyfriend with a pleading look.

“Love, don’t be like that,” he sighs. “Kristoff lectured me enough today.”

Karl tries to hide the smirk that creeps up, wanting desperately to know what was said but not wanting to give Anders the satisfaction of asking. He could always find out from Kristoff tomorrow.

“Well, leave it to him to dispense justice when I can’t,” Karl huffs. Anders must sense the change in attitude because he smiles, wandering over to wrap his arms around Karl’s waist.

“Yeah, yeah,” Anders sighs, pretending to be put out. “If ‘justice’ is what you want to call it.”

“I don’t _want_ to call it anything,” Karl glares, although there’s no real heat behind it. Anders knows, and proceeds to nuzzle his face into Karl’s neck. “Maybe you should just remember that you don’t need to declare your love for me in public.”

“But I _want_ to,” Anders whines, pressing small kisses up his neck. “Let’s just get married.”

Karl bursts out laughing, shoving Anders away.

“Who says I want to be tied down to _you_ forever?” he snorts. Anders legitimately looks hurt for a moment, until he realizes Karl is joking. He puts on another one of his charming grins, pulling Karl back into his embrace.

“Well, _I_ want to be with _you_ forever, so get used to the idea,” he murmurs, kissing Karl gently.

“You’re such a sap.” Karl smiles fondly at the other man, although it’s short-lived. “I’m going to go lie down; my head hurts.”

Anders frowns, looking at Karl skeptically for a moment before nodding.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Karl forces a small smile on his face as he waves away the other man’s concerns. “Just need to rest and clear my head a little.”

Anders’ frown deepens at the words, but he lets Karl go, watching as he leaves the room. As soon as Karl’s gone he sinks into one of the kitchen chairs, sighing as he buries his head in his arms on the table.

He hadn’t meant to say anything. And if it had been anyone except Karl he probably wouldn’t have even thought twice about it. And while he still isn’t sure exactly how much Kristoff knows, it’s clearly enough that he felt the need to read Anders the riot act and warn him about 'discretion.'

He knows Karl is upset that Kristoff now spends more time with him, even if the other man denies it. He’s noticed a change in Karl’s mood and, as he found out that afternoon, so has Kristoff. But he doesn’t know how to ask Karl if he needs any help. Or if the man would even accept it if it’s offered.

With another sigh, he stands up, making his way to the bedroom they share. Karl is curled up on his side on the bed, eyes shut but not sleeping. Anders doesn’t say or do anything to announce his presence, just shrugs out of his clothes before curling up behind his boyfriend and wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him close. Karl’s body nearly melts into his, fitting perfectly into the position they so often find themselves in.

Anders presses a small kiss to the back of Karl’s neck, feeling the shaky breath that leaves his boyfriend more than hearing it, and kisses him again for good measure.

“Even if I can’t announce it to the world,” Anders whispers, “don’t ever forget that I love you.”

* * *

Anders manages to restrain himself at practice after that, although there are more games now than practices as they rush toward the start of the season, which means less chance for interaction. Anders is relaxed, knowing his spot on the big league team is already guaranteed, but Karl continues to work hard, knowing that as the open spots on the roster dwindle, so do his chances of remaining with his boyfriend.

He and Anders and a couple of the other pitchers are going through warm-ups one morning when Kristoff walks over, serious expression betraying nothing of why he’s there.

“Here he comes,” Anders grins. “The Dispenser of Justice himself.”

Anders has taken to calling the man by that nickname and, to Karl’s surprise, Kristoff hasn’t stopped him.

“You know, it would probably be easier to just call him Justice,” Karl mutters to Anders under his breath. Anders' face brightens as Kristoff rolls his eyes.

“Whatever you are saying, do not encourage him,” Kristoff sighs. “Karl, come. You’re wanted in the front office.”

Karl shoots Anders a nervous glance as the other man gives him a small smile, nodding his head in encouragement. Karl follows Kristoff, neither of them saying a word as they make their way back inside the clubhouse and to the manager’s office.

Kristoff pats Karl on the back as they reach the office, giving him one of his rare smiles but saying nothing before turning and walking away.

Karl returns to the field a few minutes later to see Anders and Kristoff tossing to each other right next to the dugout, as close to the clubhouse entrance as possible. Anders stops paying attention when he sees Karl approach, nearly getting hit in the shoulder by the ball. Anders has a look of anxious anticipation on his face, trying not to let it show as Kristoff also turns to look.

Karl rubs his face, eyes downcast as he approaches. He can hear Anders mutter “fuck” under his breath and Kristoff let out a resigned sigh.

“Geez, and here I thought you guys would be happy to be stuck with me all season,” Karl grins, façade breaking. The other men gape at him for a moment before breaking into identical grins, shouting good-natured insults and congratulations. Kristoff beams like a proud father, something Karl will never fail to find amusing since the other man is only about two years older. Anders pulls him into a brief hug, whispering quick promises about celebrating at home before staring at him in pure jubilation.

“God, this is going to be such a great season, I feel so much better,” Anders grins, now full of boundless energy. “Justice and I were ready to kick some ass for you.”

“It also appears I have received a new nickname in the brief time you were gone,” Kristoff grimaces. “But I am also looking forward to this season.”

Karl laughs loudly, unable to contain the happiness swelling in his chest for the first time in so long. He doesn’t care that he’s getting glances from some of their teammates - it feels like a weight has been lifted that he wasn’t even entirely aware he was carrying. He also barely even cares that he’ll be in the bullpen instead of starting. He’s going to be with the two people he cares about the most in the world, and that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sings* We're getting close to the eeeeend.
> 
> This chapter was a little shorter, more of an interlude, but don't worry (or should I say, be prepared?) cause ch. 8 is about 15k. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you again for all of the comments both on and off here regarding the last chapter. Some of them legitimately had me in tears. I'm so honored and thankful to have people like you all in my life, and I just want you to know I really appreciate it. <3
> 
> And because I've had a couple questions about it - yes, Justice is featured pretty prominently throughout the rest of this fic, although it will remain almost entirely Karl and Anders. And Caught Looking ch. 19 is almost done, but it won't be posted until this is finished. 
> 
> However, there will be CL Valentine's fluff coming :) If you need something to lift your spirits lol.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lowered the rating to M a few chapters ago cause I was like "lol this fic is no place for smut!" And then this chapter happened, soooo...rating back up. 
> 
> This is a long one. But if you're here reading this then you're probably already used to that from me.
> 
> Forgive any mistakes, this was only read through twice so I'm sure I missed stuff.

He remembers their first - and only - season together.

Anders is named the number two starter. He fights for the first spot but their manager argues that the pressure is too much for a rookie and refuses to budge. Karl is listed as long relief which, according to both Anders and Justice (as he’s now referred to by the entire team) is a good sign. Long relievers can be moved into starters, should the need arise. Karl tries to keep this in mind when he goes days without knowing the next time he’ll pitch.

While Karl worries about wasting away in the bullpen, Anders’ star grows. The press and fans alike adore him, and despite the team’s dismal record, the stadium is always packed to capacity on the days he’s pitching.

As the attention grows, so does his ego.

“It’s only for the cameras, love,” Anders scoffs one night. “You know I’m not really that much of an asshole.”

Karl only raises an eyebrow over the magazine he’s reading, refusing to comment. It’s hard to hide the smirk that forms at Anders’ affronted expression.

“You don’t really think I’m that bad, do you?” Anders pouts. He moves over to perch on the arm of the chair Karl is sitting in, the other man doing everything possible to ignore the blatant plea for attention.

“Karl!” Anders whines. “Don’t ignore me!”

“You go three seconds without someone fawning all over you and you throw a temper tantrum,” Karl snaps. “You need to relax.”

Anders huffs but has the decency to look a little ashamed of himself. He doesn’t move but stops talking, toying with the hem of his shirt. Karl sighs in resignation after a moment, putting the magazine down before craning his neck up to look at his boyfriend with a tired smile.

“Is there something you want?”

“You?” Anders grins, all charm again.

“You have me, love,” Karl responds. “Now let me enjoy my...” he squints at the page, “article on water polo? Why am I reading this?”

He flips to the cover of the magazine with a baffled expression as Anders bursts into laughter.

“I _knew_ you were just ignoring me!” he hoots.

“I wouldn’t be so proud of that fact,” Karl grimaces, tossing the magazine on the table.

Anders leans over, kissing Karl on the top of his head before looping an arm awkwardly across his shoulders.

“You’ll keep me in check, right?” he murmurs. Karl glances at him again to see if he’s joking, surprised when he looks more serious than not.

“Since when do you care?”

Anders squirms a little, casting his eyes away.

“Well…” he begins. “If I’m bad enough that it’s bothering _you_ , then I must be pretty terrible.” He gives Karl a small smile. “I can deal with other people disliking me. But not you.”

Karl sighs, pulling him down for another kiss with a fond look.

“You know I like you…most of the time,” he smirks. Anders opens his mouth to argue but Karl stands, effectively shushing him.

“I’m gonna head to bed, love. I’m pretty beat.”

Anders frowns, looking at the time.

“It’s not that late,” he points out. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Karl smiles slightly. “Just don’t feel like being awake anymore.”

Anders relents, watching the other man look back at him once more before he leaves the room. As soon as he’s gone, Anders sinks down into the chair Karl just vacated, shutting his eyes as he thinks.

Karl's been going to bed without him more often than not the last couple of weeks. After late games or games in which he actually pitches, Anders can understand. But nights like tonight – after an early game and one in which neither of them pitched – it doesn't make sense. Anders has tried following him in, pressing kisses to the spots he knows Karl likes best, but Karl just shrugs him off. It’s enough to give a man a complex.

He pulls out his phone, typing a quick message to Justice. He has no idea what the catcher does in his spare time but he really needs a friendly ear – or words – right now.

 **Anders** : _have you talked to Karl lately?_

He doesn’t have to wait long, thankfully, as he gets a reply almost right away.

 **JUSTICE!:** _About?_

 **Anders:** _anything? He’s acting weird_

 **JUSTICE!:** _In what way?_

 **Anders:** _withdrawn, sleeps a lot, isn’t falling for my good looks and charm…_

 **JUSTICE!:** _I will speak with him_

Anders feels a brief surge of panic. He doesn’t want Karl to think he’s ratting him out or sharing private details of his life, even _if_ Justice is the only other person Karl is likely to talk to.

 **Anders:** _you don’t have to, I was just wondering_

 **JUSTICE!:** _I will speak with him_

Anders doesn’t bother arguing, tossing his phone onto the table. He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to go to Karl, to pull him into his arms and whisper sweet nothings into his ear…but even if it’s what he wants, is it what _Karl_ wants? The man barely seems to tolerate him lately.

His mind starts drifting to every possible worst-case scenario. Did something happen that he isn’t aware of? The two of them barely communicate during (or before, or after…) games lately with Anders in the dugout and Karl in the bullpen. The bullpen is like another world for him, an entirely different group of players that he feels like he barely knows. And now Karl is part of that group.

He wonders if Karl is starting to tire of him. Maybe, he thinks, the strain of their relationship isn’t worth it anymore.

His heart starts thudding in his chest at the thought, a sick feeling creeping into his stomach. Maybe Karl is trying to distance himself, to pull away emotionally so he can make a cleaner break. Could his attitude be pushing Karl away?

Anders jumps to his feet and practically runs to the bedroom, Karl already curled up under the blankets. He feels bad for a moment disturbing his sleep, but he knows if he doesn’t clear the air now, things will only get worse.  

He slides into bed next to Karl, the other man already half asleep. He looks over his shoulder drowsily, mumbling something under his breath before rolling back onto his side.

“Karl?” Anders whispers, gently shaking his shoulder. “Karl, wake up.”

Karl shifts onto his back, blinking at Anders in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” he yawns. Anders feels another pang of guilt.

“I wanted to talk,” Anders responds, feeling more uncomfortable as the seconds tick by.

“Now?” Karl sighs. “I was sleeping.”

“It’s important.”

Karl doesn’t reply but looks a little more awake, gazing at Anders in silence.

“I, uh, wanted to talk about…well, _you_ ,” Anders begins.

“What about me?” Karl asks, brow furrowed.

“You’re worrying me.”

Karl’s definitely awake now, propping himself up on his elbows as he stares at Anders in confusion.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing, love,” Anders rushes to assure him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You just…I don’t know. You haven’t been yourself.”

“I’ve been tired.”

“Yeah, but…” Anders sighs, pausing. He needs to make sure he doesn’t make this about him. “You’ve just been tired _a lot_ lately. And sort of withdrawn.”

Karl’s expression doesn’t change, so Anders takes another deep breath and plows forward.

“And you haven’t…you know,” he looks down for a moment, blushing slightly. “Haven’t _wanted_ me in a while, so I wasn’t sure…”

“Please don’t ask me if I’m breaking up with you.”

Anders looks up sharply, only to be greeted by Karl giving him a weary, somewhat amused look.

“I’m…not?” Anders responds, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels.

“I’m not either,” Karl confirms, lying back down. “I’ve just been tired.”

“You’ve been tired a _lot_ ,” Anders repeats, slightly more relaxed now that he knows Karl isn’t trying to get rid of him. “Like I said…I’m just worried.”

“You may be hot, love, but your dick doesn’t cure everything,” Karl smirks. Anders grins in response before pretending to be put out.

“I’m pretty sure we decided that sex with me is the answer to everything,” he pouts, curling up next to Karl. The other man lets out a small laugh, shaking his head the best he can against the pillow.

“And _I’m_ pretty sure it was the exact opposite,” he responds, his face growing serious after a moment. “It really has nothing to do with you, though. Sorry…I’ve just been kind of wrapped up in my own head lately.”

Anders cranes his neck to look at the table on Karl’s side of the bed where his pill bottles sit. Karl follows his line of sight, letting out another small sigh.

“And yes, I’ve been taking my medicine like a good boy.”

Anders smiles, giving him a small kiss before settling back down. He lets one hand linger on Karl’s face, thumb gently running along his bottom lip.

“I just want you to be okay,” he murmurs.

Karl’s face softens and he smiles again, reaching out to take Anders’ hand into his own.

“I know,” he replies softly.

“Tell me if you ever need help, love,” Anders almost pleads. “You know I’ll do anything for you. Don’t feel like you can’t talk to me. Even if I’m an asshole sometimes.”

Karl chuckles, shifting so he can curl into Anders’ side. “I’ll remember that.”

Silence drifts between them and Karl falls back asleep, still cradled in Anders’ arms.

* * *

The Rebels are having another awful season, but Anders is the one bright spot in the mix.

He and Justice are widely considered the best battery in baseball, completely wasted on such a horrible team. Fans are already petitioning for them both to be named All-Stars, months before the players are announced, and Anders feels his pride swell up to new heights with every mention.

Karl’s problems begin sometime in the beginning of the third month of the season. He’s hit by a line drive in the elbow, the joint swelling up to hideous proportions and giving him no choice but to be placed on the disabled list for two weeks. Once he’s finally given the green light to begin practicing again, his confidence is shot.

“You need to stop acting so scared,” Anders tells him one morning as they’re finishing up breakfast. “You flinch whenever a ball gets hit within 20 feet of you.”

Karl glares and Anders rubs his face, trying a softer approach.

“You know what I mean, love,” he says, gentler. “If you’re so worried about being hit again, that’s all you’re going to think about when you need to be focusing on your pitches instead.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Karl replies curtly. “Just stop harping on me about it.”

“I’m not trying to nag you, I just—“

“Well, it sounds like nagging to me,” Karl cuts him off. “I said I’ll deal with it. Just drop it.”

Anders opens his mouth to argue, but they’ve done this so many times in the last couple of weeks that he doesn’t have the energy to do it again. He knows Karl is frustrated, but _he’s_ frustrated, too. The other man refuses any semblance of help from anyone and Anders isn’t sure whether it’s from pride or stubbornness. Or both.

“You know what?” he declares, slapping his hands on the table. “Fuck it. I try to help you, and you don’t want anything to do with me. You don’t want anything to do with me on the field, at practice, at home, in bed…I’ll just do you a favor, then, and get out of your hair.”

Karl’s face drops and Anders feels a pang of guilt in his chest but he shakes it off, nearly knocking over his chair as he stands. Karl doesn’t reply, staring blankly at his food.

Anders has no idea where he’s going, but he knows he can’t sit there and watch Karl’s glum face as he picks at his food, barely listening to a word Anders says. He sets off down the road from their apartment, hoping maybe a walk around the block a few times will calm him down enough to return, grab his things, and pick up Karl before practice.

By the time he arrives back at the apartment – somewhat calmer, but not nearly enough, in his opinion – he finds Karl curled up on the couch with a blanket tucked around him, watching TV. Anders immediately feels a jolt of panic, worried that Karl is sick, but when the man lifts his head slightly to look at him the feeling is replaced by annoyance.

“Are you almost ready to go?” he asks by way of a greeting.

Karl mumbles something and Anders walks closer, peering over the back of the couch.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“I said, ‘I guess,’” Karl speaks up. “But what does it matter?”

“Don’t start this again,” Anders sighs. “Just get your stuff so we can go.”

Karl reluctantly pulls himself to his feet and gets changed, grabbing his bag to meet an impatient Anders at the door. The pair don’t say anything as they walk to the car and remain silent the entire way to the ballpark. Anders feels worse and worse the longer it lingers and he debates whether or not he should be the one to break the stalemate, but stubbornness causes him to remain silent.

They part ways once they reach the clubhouse. Justice picks up on the tension between the two almost immediately but doesn’t comment. He shoots Anders a look but opts to linger around Karl instead, the two men speaking quietly to each other as they get changed. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but Karl pointedly ignores looking in his direction the entire time, despite their lockers being next to each other.

Anders isn’t starting so he takes his time getting dressed, playing around on his phone or just making himself appear busy so no one else will bother him. Even if it doesn’t look like it, he’s hyper aware of everything Karl is doing off to his side, checking to see if he can grasp an opening to approach the other man.

Karl leaves before he can get a chance, chatting with a couple of the other bullpen pitchers as the team heads out to the field to practice. Justice lingers a little behind, however, and when Anders looks up the man is standing in front of him.

“What happened?”

“That’s what I like about you,” Anders says, plastering on one of his biggest grins as he slaps Justice on the shoulder. “You don’t beat around the bush.”

Justice doesn’t reply, crossing his arms and fixing Anders with his usual serious, steady gaze. Anders sighs, grabbing his glove to focus on while he speaks.

“I was just trying to help him,” he begins, realizing immediately how defensive he sounds. “About his pitching, you know? But he got really annoyed with me, and I kind of said some things and then stormed out of the apartment.”

He ventures a glance at Justice to see the other man’s expression hasn’t changed, nor does he offer any words. Anders finally shrugs, letting out a deep breath.

“He’s just been really moody and I lost my temper with him this morning. I feel like shit, if it makes you feel any better.”

“It’s not my feelings we are concerned with,” Justice replies.  

“Well…did he say anything to you?” Anders asks, defeated. “I don’t even know what to say to him anymore.”

“His confidence will not improve like this,” Justice responds, deflecting the question.

“So it’s my fault?” Anders feels his face flush with anger. “What the hell am I supposed to do? All he does it mope around the house anymore; he barely even looks at me.”

Justice is quiet for a few moments, apparently deep in thought. The pair walk silently out to the field to join the others, Anders turning to look for Karl once they arrive. He sees the other man across the field with the rest of the bullpen, going through tossing drills with each other. Karl is smiling now, at least, as he talks to his teammates and he looks perfectly fine.

“I don’t know,” Justice admits with a small shake of his head. “Perhaps just…don’t speak to him about baseball.”

Anders snorts, giving Justice a disbelieving look.

“Kinda hard to do considering we basically eat, breathe, and sleep the damn thing.”

“Exactly my point,” Justice nods. “Maybe he needs some semblance of normalcy. A life outside of baseball. Maybe he just wants you to be a regular couple when you’re off the field.”

Anders ponders the idea, turning it over and over in his head. He’s immediately reminded of Karl’s words at the end of last season, his desire to go back to a “normal” life…one that he may have inadvertently disrupted because of their relationship.

“Fuck,” Anders mutters. He lets out a deep breath, removing his hat to briefly run his hand through his hair before closing his eyes in shame.

“What?”

Anders turns his focus back to the catcher, Justice looking at him curiously.

“It’s a long story,” Anders grimaces. “But I think you’re right. I feel like an idiot.”

Justice smirks, patting Anders on the shoulder much like the other man did only minutes before.

“Only sometimes, my friend.”

* * *

Anders manages to keep a respectful distance from Karl for the rest of practice – not quite ignoring the man, but not engaging in any unnecessary interaction. He barely pays attention, going through the motions more out of habit than anything else as he wracks his brain trying to think of what he can do to put Karl more at ease.

He wasn’t lying when he told Justice that baseball was their entire lives. It was constantly on one or both of their tongues and if not, he was sure in both of their minds. The only time they seemed to escape was during sex or while they were asleep – although he wasn’t entirely sure Karl didn’t have nightmares plaguing him even there. And as much as he would like to fuck the thoughts out of Karl’s head, he knew he had to come up with a more realistic plan.

Justice gives Anders a pointed look as they change after practice, Anders just rolling his eyes and waving him off in response. If Karl takes any notice, he doesn’t show it. The pair walks quietly to their car, Karl’s mood growing somber now that they’re alone. Anders desperately wants to say something but can’t seem to settle on a topic to break the ice. He’s hoping that Karl will speak first, although he doubts that will happen.

They’re about halfway back to their apartment when an idea occurs to him and Anders takes an abrupt turn, fighting back a smile when he senses Karl’s confusion.

“Um…”

“Relax, love,” Anders soothes, reaching out to take Karl’s hand in his. He feels emboldened when Karl entwines their fingers together and risks a quick glance at the other man, grinning at Karl’s perplexed expression.

“I just thought it would be nice to go out to dinner for a change,” he explains, giving Karl’s hand another squeeze. “We haven’t been to that Orlesian place in a while.”

“You _hate_ that Orlesian place.”

“But _you_ love it,” Anders counters with a chuckle. “And I don’t mind it, I just didn’t like what I got last time.”

“Or the time before, or the time before that…”

Anders glances over again to see Karl smirking at him affectionately. Anders turns his eyes back to the road, lifting Karl’s hand to his lips to give it a brief kiss.

“Then I’ll let you decide for me tonight,” he announces. Karl lets out a small chuckle as Anders pulls into the parking lot.

“I would think twice about that offer if I was you,” he warns.

Anders scoffs good-naturedly as he lets go of Karl’s hand and turns the car off. They both exit, Anders immediately wishing he could have Karl’s hand back in his own. He puts his hands in his pockets to resist the temptation.

Despite the fact that (surprisingly) no one in the restaurant seems to recognize them, they immediately fall into their “public” routine, making sure to keep plenty of distance between themselves and making a conscious effort to not look at each other too much. And true to his word, Anders lets Karl pick his food and he ends up enjoying it more than he expects.

“Alright, you got me,” he grins halfway through the meal. “This is awesome. I should listen to you more often.”

Karl raises an eyebrow as he takes a bite of his own food, Anders laughing at the smug look on his face.

“Okay,” he relents with a teasing smile. “Maybe I should listen to you on more than just food choices.”

Karl just laughs quietly, shaking his head as Anders beams at him across the table. The other man relaxed after a few tense minutes once they got seated and now seems completely at ease. Anders hasn’t brought up baseball or anything related to it the entire night and they fall into an easy banter over a number of other topics. It gives him a bit of a melancholy twinge, remembering how things used to be like this all the time, without a conscious effort. Seeing how happy Karl appears makes him even more determined to follow Justice’s advice.

“So, I was thinking since it’s kind of early still, maybe we could pick up some snacks and rent a couple movies,” he suggests as they finish their meal. “Stay in all night and relax? We haven’t done that in a while.”

Karl makes a noise that sounds like an agreement, but he remains quiet for a few moments, lost in thought. He eventually looks up, giving Anders a slightly confused smile.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?” Anders frowns.

“Being so…” Karl begins, gesturing between them. “I don’t know. Nice?”

The hurt must show on Anders’ face because Karl quickly shakes his head.

“I don’t mean that,” he grimaces. “I mean like…attentive.”

Anders only frowns again, causing Karl to sigh.

“Okay, that’s not the right word either,” he corrects himself. “You know what I mean.”

Anders shrugs, trying to appear casual.

“I just thought we needed a nice night out,” he replies. “Is it bad?”

“No!” Karl says quickly, eyes widening. “No, it’s great. I guess I just…shouldn’t feel suspicious, but I am?”

He ducks his head sheepishly and Anders grins, risking a quick squeeze of their hands under the table.

“I have no ulterior motives, I promise,” Anders smiles. “I honestly just wanted to do something nice for you. For _us._ Especially after the way I acted this morning.”

Karl squints his eyes, studying Anders as a coy smile appears on his lips.

“You’re trying to get laid, aren’t you?”

Anders bursts out laughing, causing the patrons at the nearby tables to turn and look at them in confusion. He pays no attention, wiping the tears from his eyes as he calms down, Karl grinning at him despite the flush that’s risen in his cheeks.

“Would you believe me even if I said I wasn’t?” Anders finally manages to get out. “Because for once, I wasn’t.”

“I absolutely don’t believe you,” Karl replies primly. “But I appreciate the thought.”

“Such a low opinion of me,” Anders sighs, signaling for the check. “Now I’m not going to do it even if you ask.”

Anders caves a few hours later, halfway through the second movie, when Karl decides to slip a hand into the front of Anders’ shorts. He’s hard almost immediately, too long since anyone’s hand but his own has touched him there…and even longer since Karl has initiated it.

Karl lets out a small groan when he feels how quickly Anders reacts, sliding over to straddle his lap instead as he brings them together in a fevered kiss.

“Missed this,” he mutters against Anders’ lips before dipping down to plant kisses along his neck. Anders has already divested them both of their shirts and is now eagerly running his hands up and down the expanse of his boyfriend’s back.

“Me too, love,” Anders pants. He lets his head fall back against the couch, giving Karl better access. “Fuck, you feel good.”

“And you’re not even inside me yet,” Karl chuckles, giving Anders a quick nip on his ear. The other man groans loudly, gripping Karl’s ass to pull him closer.

“Keep talking like that and I’m not going to last long enough to make it there.”

“Pretty sure I can make you come more than once,” Karl quips. Anders can feel him grinning against his neck and he squeezes Karl’s ass, causing the man to yelp with laughter.

“Getting _cocky_ , are we?” Anders grins as Karl pulls back to look at him.

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Karl moans, rolling his eyes. “You left me wide open there.”

Anders’ face lights up and he opens his mouth to reply but Karl quickly slaps a hand over it.

“Okay, I walked right into that one,” he laughs. “I can be cocky _and_ wide open.”

He smirks as Anders lets out a muffled whimper behind his hand, eyes closing briefly.

“I’m dying here,” Anders pleads once Karl removes his hand. “Can we go to the bedroom now?”

“Nope,” Karl replies, quickly sliding off Anders’ lap and down to his knees in front of him. It takes Anders a second to catch on in his slightly dazed mindset, but he immediately stills Karl’s hands as they reach for the waistband of his shorts.

“Nuh uh,” Anders shakes his head, pulling Karl back up. The other man looks at him in confusion, but allows himself to be led back to his former position.

“If anyone is doing anything like that tonight, it’s going to be me,” Anders smiles.

In one fluid motion, he stands, Karl wrapping his arms and legs around Anders’ body instinctively as he lets out a yelp.

“Anders, put me down,” he laughs. “You’re going to break your back and I am _not_ going to be responsible for that.”

“Too late,” Anders shouts, staggering to the bedroom and unceremoniously flinging them both onto the bed, laughing.

It doesn’t take long before Karl is on him again, eagerly pulling him into another kiss as he attempts to rid Anders of the rest of his clothes. Somehow they both manage to shuck the rest of their clothing without breaking the kiss, warm bodies now writhing together on the sheets as they reacquaint themselves with each other’s forms.

“How do you want to do this?” Karl pants, pulling back for a moment.

“However you want,” Anders replies. “I’m not picky.”

Karl chuckles and Anders shoots him a grin, reaching over to press kisses down his side so the man laughs louder. He eventually shoves Anders away, the other man resting his head on Karl’s stomach.

“Like this,” Karl murmurs, carding his fingers through Anders’ hair.

“No offense, love, but there’s not much I can do with my mouth on your stomach other than make some funny noises.”

Karl smacks him lightly on the back of his head and Anders turns to look at him with a grin.

“I meant me on my back, jerk,” Karl laughs. “You’re totally killing the mood.”

“I can fix that.”

He begins kissing his way across Karl’s firm stomach, nuzzling his nose into the line of hair as he makes his way to the spot his mouth has been watering for. Karl is half-hard, watching Anders through heavy-lidded eyes as he takes Karl’s cock slowly into his mouth. Karl lets out a groan, head falling back slightly as Anders takes his time bobbing up and down the now hard length, letting out little moans of delight on each one.

“Love,” Karl chokes out eventually, reaching for Anders’ hair. “Love, stop. I don’t want to come like this.”

Anders looks up from between Karl’s legs, cock still deep in his mouth, looking totally at home and pleased with himself. Karl groans and has to cover his eyes because the sight is too much after so long and he really doesn’t want to come already. He feels himself slip out of Anders’ mouth a second later and hears the other man rummaging through one of their bedside drawers for a moment before his weight returns to Karl’s side.

He peeks an eye open to see Anders coating a few fingers, grinning over at him when he catches Karl’s eye.

“You good, love?”

“Yeah,” Karl chuckles, letting his head loll back over. “Very good.”

“I’ll make you better.”

Karl feels a slick finger pressing into him a second later, and he hisses at the contact. Anders begins making soothing noises, using his other hand to rub up and down Karl’s leg as he takes his time moving in further. Karl wracks his brain, trying to remember the last time they had done this and finds he can’t remember. Weeks, at least.  

Anders finally gets one finger fully inside and is now slowly sliding it in and out, watching Karl for any signs of discomfort. Karl finally nods, spreading his legs a little wider as Anders begins to insert a second. He clenches his teeth, determined not to let out any noise as the pain increases.

“You’re doing amazing, love,” Anders whispers, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I’m going to make you feel so good, don’t worry. Love seeing you open up like this for me…”

“ _Fuck_ , Anders,” Karl finally grits out. Anders stops, looking up at him in alarm.

“No, you’re fine,” Karl breathes out with a small laugh. “I just…it’s been a while. Feels like it’s the first time all over again.”

Anders chuckles, turning his attention back to his fingers. “I seem to remember being a lot more impatient that time.”

“So do I,” Karl grins. “And a lot more terrified. At least now I know what to expect.”

“The most mind-blowing pleasure you could ever imagine?”

Karl rolls his eyes, kicking Anders gently with his foot.

“Yeah, something like tha- _AH!_ ”

Karl’s back arches off the bed as Anders grins widely, fingers pumping in and out at just the right angle to hit that spot he knows will make Karl scream. He manages to add a third finger to the onslaught while Karl is distracted, causing the other man to moan louder and clutch the bedsheets in his frenzy. Anders continues for a bit longer until he’s convinced that Karl is ready. As much as he would like to keep teasing Karl to orgasm like this, his own throbbing cock is reminding him that it needs attention as well.

“You were saying, love?” Anders innocently asks as he slides up Karl’s body, giving him a gentle kiss.

“I was saying,” Karl responds, breathing heavily, “that you need to fuck me into next week. Like, right now.”

Anders groans, taking a brief moment to file the entire scene away for future memory. How absolutely wrecked Karl looks beneath him, the panting breaths coming out of his body along with his hard, leaking cock resting heavily against his leg. And knowing how open he is just below, waiting for him…

“Are you going to stare at me or fuck me?”

He looks back up to Karl’s face, smirking at him. The other man reaches down, teasing the head of Anders’ cock with a few fingers and it’s enough to make his hips jerk forward on their own.

“Point taken,” he grins. He positions himself quickly and then slides into Karl in a few halting movements. They remain that way for what seems like forever, allowing Karl to adjust.

“Maybe I’m not as out of practice as I thought,” Karl huffs out a laugh a few moments later. “Was expecting it to be a lot harder than that.”

“I’m not hard enough for you?” Anders gasps, bucking slightly.

Karl groans before chuckling again, wrapping a leg around Anders’ waist to pull him closer.

“I’m not talking anymore if you’re going to keep making bad jokes,” he murmurs, giving the other man a rough kiss.

“Good,” Anders replies with a grin. “I don’t plan on making you talk. I just want to hear those noises that drive me crazy.”

With one last nip to Karl’s neck, Anders pulls back, cock sliding almost all the way out, and Karl makes such a crestfallen little noise that Anders can do nothing but slam in home again, pushing deep enough to bring a shout tearing from his lips.

Karl attempts to watch as Anders fucks him, rocking in deep and steady, keeping him filled with his cock. Little noises and whimpers escape his throat as Anders picks up steam, but it’s apparently not enough for the other man.

“Fuck, Karl, feels so good,” Anders pants, thrusting harder. “Like your body’s fucking made for me. I need to hear you.”

Karl lets out a small groan, palming briefly at his cock.

“Don’t touch yourself, love, not yet,” Anders warns. “Gonna make you moan for me, scream my name when you come. Fuck, love, sounds so good when you do…”

Another loud cry escapes Karl’s mouth as Anders’ hips pick up speed, his cock making obscene sounds as it ruts into his boyfriend’s body. Karl’s noises are steady now, a small pool of liquid gathering at the tip of his cock where it rests and occasionally jerks on his stomach. Anders takes him in hand, a broken shout coming from Karl's throat as he begins to pump in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Anders grits out, trying to maintain the last semblances of control. “Ready to come, love? You look like you’re ready to fall apart.”

“Will you stop fucking talking and just _fuck me?_ ” Karl cries, his body wildly writhing on the bed, trying in vain to push Anders’ deeper into his body and his cock harder into his hand.

“God, you’re fucking beautiful,” Anders murmurs before shutting his eyes and burying himself as deeply as he can within Karl, fucking him wildly. His hand can’t keep up with his hips and Karl finally takes hold, jerking himself in quick, rough strokes until he makes a strangled noise indicating that he’s close.

“That’s it, love,” Anders groans. “I want to see you come all over yourself. Come on, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck, _Anders!_ ” Karl cries, body tensing as thick ropes of come splatter across his stomach and chest. Anders pauses for a moment to watch the display before picking up speed once more, thrusting erratically until he’s coming hard, cock pulsing as he empties himself within his lover’s body.

Anders lets his body drape over Karl’s, not caring that they’re sticky with sweat and come, just wanting to be close. They allow their breathing to calm down as their bodies cool, until Karl finally nudges Anders to roll over.

“We should get cleaned up,” he yawns, not moving. Anders grunts in response, having no desire to get out of the bed or away from the warmth of his boyfriend.

“I don’t wanna,” he grumbles, burrowing deeper into the pillow.

“You’re disgusting, love,” Karl chuckles. “I’m not sleeping next to you like this.”

Anders pouts but doesn’t move. Karl rolls his eyes – not that Anders can see him – and reaches over to lightly brush his fingers down Anders’ side before planting a kiss on his shoulder.

“I’ll let you shower with me,” he whispers, Anders squinting open one eye at the proposition.

“Yeah?”

Karl grins, nodding his head.

“Promise. You can even wash my back.”

20 minutes later, with his face buried deep between the soft mounds of his boyfriend’s ass, Anders thinks things might be okay.

* * *

Things get better, much to Anders’ delight and relief. At least outside of the ballfield.

Karl is still struggling with his pitches, growing increasingly frustrated when nothing he tries seems to work. Anders wants to offer to stay late and help him, but Justice dissuades him of this idea, claiming it might only bring old hostilities back. Anders is there for Karl when the man needs it: during games when he needs a friendly face and some murmured encouragement, during practice when he’s too ashamed to throw to any of the other men, and in the clubhouse when he’s close to breaking down and needs someone to pull him away and tell him it’ll be alright. Justice can clearly see the situation in a way that Anders cannot, and he takes the older man’s advice for the gift it is.

When they’re at home, Anders doesn’t mention baseball at all. Karl attempts to bring it up now and then. Anders responds appropriately, then changes the subject. Karl must have noticed the change by now, but he never mentions it. Their alone time together, while still far less than they would like, is spent in more positive ways. They cook together, go out for ice cream or coffee dates on off days or when they don’t have practice. They spend most nights curled up together, watching movies or bad TV shows, not really caring what it is because they’re together. And, to Anders’ delight (and, he thinks, Karl’s) their sex life is almost as enthusiastic as when they first became lovers.

In Anders’ eyes, things are nearly perfect.

They arrive at the ballpark a few weeks later, Anders trying not to let his excitement show. It’s the last week before the All-Star Break, and he has a feeling he’s going to be named the starter in the game. He’s been trying to convince Karl to make the short trip with him to Redcliffe, but the other man hasn’t given him an answer one way or another.

They’re in the locker room, chatting amicably to each other as they change when Justice appears at their side.

“Coach is looking for you,” he says to Karl. “I told him I would send you over when you were dressed.”

Karl’s face pales, and he shoots Anders a panicked look. Anders can see him struggling to control himself, so he places a hand on his shoulder, gently urging him to sit down. Karl complies, and Anders and Justice exchange a grim look over his head.

Anders kneels down, pretending to tie his shoe so he’s face to face with Karl.

“Just take your time and relax,” he murmurs. “I’m sure it’s nothing major. Justice and I will hang around and wait for you until you come back.”

Karl glances up at Justice nervously, as if for reassurance, and Justice just nods his head. He finishes lacing up his shoes, forgoing the rest of his uniform in favor of pants and his undershirt.

Anders and Justice watch him walk off in silence, Anders whirling on the other man as soon as he’s out of sight.

“What did they want?” he growls.

Justice shakes his head. “They did not tell me. I was going over film with the others, and he mentioned that he wished to speak to Karl. I offered to get him.” He shrugs, letting out a small sigh. “I thought it might be easier.”

Anders pats him on the shoulder before sitting down in his chair and running his hands through his hair. Justice sits across from him, saying nothing.

“You’re a good guy,” Anders murmurs after a moment. Justice looks at him curiously, one eyebrow raised.

“I just don’t think I ever told you how much we appreciate you – especially Karl,” Anders continues, fiddling with his fingers as he stares at the floor. “It means a lot to both of us, how you kinda took him in. And, you know…stuck with us.”

He finally looks up at Justice, who is still staring with his usual impassive expression, but his eyes are a little softer, fonder, than usual.

“I’m shit at this kind of stuff,” Anders chuckles, stretching his arms out in front of him. “Much better when I’m trying to butter Karl up in bed. But I don’t think you want to hear those kinds of things coming out of my mouth.”

“Please don’t,” Justice sighs, shaking his head again. Anders bursts out laughing, patting Justice’s knee.

“Don’t worry, buddy, I don’t want you trying to steal me away,” he winks, Justice just rolling his eyes in response.

They lapse back into silence as they wait for Karl’s return. The other players begin to file outside in small groups for batting practice, eventually leaving the two of them alone.

“Think it’s obvious that we’re the last two in here?” Anders asks with a nervous chuckle. “People might get the wrong idea.”

“They will not, if they know what’s good for them.”

Anders looks up, ready to make another quip, when he sees a shadow coming towards them from the hall.

“I think he’s back,” he whispers, Justice looking over as well.

Karl’s head is down, obstructing most of his expression, but judging by the slump of his shoulders it’s not a good one. He refuses to look at either of them once he makes it back to his locker, and he barely looks like he’s holding it together.

Anders and Justice exchange a look, neither sure if they should say something first or let Karl have his space.

“I have to go,” Karl finally chokes out, giving Anders the opening he’s been waiting for. He looks around the room quickly, making sure no one else is within earshot.

“What happened, love?” he whispers, tilting Karl’s head up to look at him. The man looks devastated, jaw clenched.

“They’re sending me down,” he whispers, throwing things into his bag. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Justice lets out a sigh, cradling his forehead in his hand. Anders sits back down with a heavy thud, staring blankly at the man in front of him.

“You…you _can’t_ ,” he says after a moment. Justice gives him a sharp look.

“Anders--”

“No,” Anders shakes his head, snapping out of his daze as he stands. “They _can’t._ I won’t let them do this to you.”

He pushes past them both, storming through the room toward the offices when a hand roughly grabs his arm, pulling him back. He tries to shake Justice off, but the other man has an iron grip.

“Fucking let me _go_ ,” he yells, trying to pull free again. Justice only grips his arm harder, pulling him close enough to hiss in his ear.

“Your man is _hurting_ right now, and you throwing a tantrum on his behalf is not going to help anyone.” He fixes Anders with a glare so menacing it causes Anders to shrink back slightly. “All you will do is draw attention to yourselves and that is the _exact_ thing you’ve both been trying to avoid. You know and I know that this is the best move for him, so you need to cool that goddamn temper of yours, turn around, and _be there for him_ when he needs you the most.”

He lets Anders go with a small shake, the other man sufficiently chastised as he rubs his tender arm.

“I’m sorry I had to speak to you that way,” Justice apologizes, back to his normal, stoic expression.

“Glad it wasn’t my pitching arm, fucking hell,” Anders mutters. He looks over Justice’s shoulder to see Karl still slowly packing his things, not paying them any attention. Anders sighs, looking at Justice plaintively.

“Can you cover for me out there if anyone asks? I don’t care what you tell them, I just want to do this alone.”

Justice nods, patting him on his shoulder.

“Of course, my friend. Good luck.”

Anders makes his way back to Karl, the other man not looking up when he arrives.

“Can I help you, love?” Anders asks quietly. Karl only shakes his head, not bothering to respond. Anders sighs, taking a seat.

“Would you rather have this talk here, or when we’re back at home?”

Karl huffs. “Can we not have it at all?”

“No,” Anders replies. “We need to. Are you staying for the game?”

Karl nods and Anders can’t help the ball of anger that rises in his chest. Couldn’t these assholes have waited until _after_ the game to tell him? Why make him suffer through another one if they didn’t plan on keeping him around?

He swallows it and forces a small smile to his face.

“Then let’s just make it through this shitshow first. We’ll stop and grab some food wherever you want on the way home and we can talk once we get there.”

Karl just glances at him out of the corner of his eye.

“You know by the time we get home I’m not going to feel like eating _or_ talking.”

“If anyone knows that, it’s me,” Anders smiles gently. “But we’re going to do the first one just in case, and the second one whether you like it or not.”

“You’re such a bully,” Karl mutters, although a small smile teases the corner of his lips.

“I know,” Anders affirms. He looks around quickly before sneaking a quick kiss to Karl’s cheek. “But you love me anyway.”

He stands, bumping their shoulders together.

“Come on,” he urges. “Let’s do the rest of this after the game. I have a feeling you’re not going to be gone from here for very long anyway.”

Karl scoffs but gives a slightly hopeful look in Anders’ direction anyway. Anders grins confidently, putting his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“And when am I _ever_ wrong?”

* * *

Karl leaves early the next morning, making the three-hour trek back to their old team. Their discussion the evening before had gone fairly well, considering the circumstances. Better than Anders had hoped, if he’s being honest with himself. He had badgered Justice for advice when he could during the game, with Karl sitting on the other side of the field and out of earshot, and Justice was happy to help.

Karl ends up wanting fast food for dinner, despite Anders’ offer of anything, no matter how far or expensive. Instead, they end up recreating their meal from New Year’s Eve…but instead of sharing it on a hillside with fireworks in the air, they’re sitting in their dark and quiet apartment, struggling to come to terms with yet another separation.

“I know it shouldn’t bother me as much as it does,” Karl relents after a while with a shrug. “I mean, what are the odds we’re going to be able to stay together our whole careers? I guess maybe it’s better we get used to it now.”

Anders nods his head in agreement, knowing Karl dislikes the idea as much as he does. 

“And on the plus side,” Anders adds, “you’re going back to a team full of people you know and like, for the most part. That’s got to make things a lot easier than when you moved up here.”

Karl perks up slightly at that notion.

“I hadn’t thought about that,” he admits. “Maybe it won’t be so bad.”

Anders smiles, gathering the other man into his arms.

“And like I said,” Anders continues. “I don’t think you’ll be there very long. Just enough to get your mechanics back, get in a few games…we’ve seen it before. My guess would be right after the All-Star Break.”

Karl’s eyes go wide, looking at Anders in sorrow.

“I’m not going to be able to go with you now, am I?”

“It might…be a little more difficult,” Anders admits. “You’ll have to see what your schedule is that week. You’ll be closer down there, at least. You can always drive over for the game or something. I’m going to save your ticket, regardless.”

Karl hums in agreement, but Anders can tell it’s bothering him.

“It’s not a big deal, love,” Anders reassures him with a kiss on the head. “I can guarantee you I’m going to be in _plenty_ more All-Star Games, don’t worry.”

Anders grins as Karl bursts into laughter, shoving himself away from the man.

“God, remind me to call Justice tonight and tell him he needs to keep you in check while I’m gone, holy fuck.”

Anders laughs with him, dramatically draping himself across the front of Karl’s body.

“I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about,” he sighs. “They should just make me the poster child for the league. Best pitcher, super hot, huge dick…”

“Your dick isn’t _that_ big.”

Anders gasps, sitting up in a flash and staring at Karl in disbelief. The other man blinks his eyes, innocently staring back.

“ _What_?”

Karl bites his lip, naïve expression remaining as he shrugs his shoulders.

“I’ve seen bigger.”

Anders sputters, fighting to get the words out as he looks around the room wildly. Karl brings a hand up to cover his mouth, struggling to hold back his laughter.

“Where? What are you _talking_ about?” Anders cries. He stands up and begins to unfasten his pants. “Hold on, let’s look at this again…”

Karl finally can’t contain himself any longer, throwing back his head as he bursts into laughter. Anders pauses with his zipper halfway down, staring at him suspiciously.

“Were you teasing me?”

Karl nods, still laughing so hard he’s unable to answer. Anders grumbles around a smile, rebuttoning his pants as he sits back down.

“I’m sorry, love,” Karl gasps a few moments later. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Anders sulks, crossing his arms.

“What were you going to _do_ , anyway?” he asks, wiping his eyes. “Wave your dick around until I was convinced?”

“Maybe!” Anders replies defensively. He pauses a moment before sneaking a glance at Karl. “No, but really, who else have you seen?”

Karl breaks into another round of laughter as Anders resumes his pouting.

“Laugh it up,” he cries. “Me and my inadequate dick are going to sit over here and rethink all our life choices.”

“You’re not inadequate, love,” Karl sighs, scooting over to rest his head on Anders’ shoulder. “You know I was just teasing you.”

“Do I?”

“You should,” he affirms, giving him a small kiss. “Yours is perfect and the only one I want.”

Anders rolls his eyes good-naturedly and gives him another kiss.

“Yeah, sounds like something you’d say to someone with an unsatisfying dick.”

Karl chuckles into his neck, biting it gently.

“Let’s help each other, then,” he suggests, Anders looking at him with interest. “You take me in that bedroom for one last night of _really_ good sex and help me forget everything that happened today. And I’ll help convince you that you have the most amazing cock in Ferelden.”

“In Thedas.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Anders.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Anders relents with a dramatic sigh. “We’ll start with Ferelden.”

* * *

Karl’s return to the minors mimics his call-up to the majors in a few ways. He’s upbeat when he first arrives, their former teammates welcoming him with open arms. They put him in a game almost immediately, and he pitches two stellar innings. He calls Anders after his first few days with more confidence than Anders has heard in months.

“I think it went well,” he says that evening. “I mean, I’m not going to get my hopes up yet or anything, but it’s the best I’ve pitched outside of practice.”

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that, love,” Anders replies, hoping the other man can sense his smile. “You should text Justice and let him know, too. He’ll be thrilled.”

Karl snorts. “I can just imagine his response. ‘Dear Karl, I am pleased to hear this. Do not forget to bend your knee at precisely a 38-degree angle. Sincerely, Kristoff.’”

Anders is already in tears by the time Karl finishes, his entire body shaking with laughter. Karl joins him soon after.

“Please, please, _please_ text him,” Anders gasps out. “I need to know his response.”

“I will as soon as I hang up with you,” Karl laughs.

“Do it now, do it now,” Anders urges. “We can always talk tomorrow.”

They say goodnight and Anders goes to wash up and get ready for bed. He hears his phone beep from the living room a few minutes later and rushes back to check it.

 **Karl <3**: _OMG_

 **Karl <3:** _FWD: Karl, I am proud of you. I knew you would do well. Please continue your strengthening workouts and let me know if I can be of any assistance. Kristoff_

Anders barks out a laugh, grinning from ear-to-ear as he texts Karl back.

 **Anders:** _that’s AMAZING lol_

 **Anders:** _so perfectly justice_

 **Karl <3: ** _I know!!_

 **Karl <3**: _totally worth it_

Anders wipes his eyes as he settles back down, the phone beeping again in his hand after a couple seconds.

 **Karl <3:** _I’m going to sleep now, love. Night <3_

 **Anders:** _same here, have a good night <3 _

**Anders:** _wait, no_

 **Anders:** _Karl, it is my wish that you have an enjoyable evening of slumber. Please sleep securely in your blankets and do not let any insects inside. Love, Anders_

 **Karl <3: ** _fuck you, I can’t stop laughing_

 **Anders:** _can we make a pact right now that we never tell justice about this? Lol_

 **Karl <3: ** _deal_

 **Anders:** _< 3_

Anders feels the emptiness of the bed as immensely as he has every night since Karl has been gone, but he can rest a little easier knowing that Karl is relatively happy where he is. He won’t let last year repeat itself, now that he knows what to look for. He smiles as he pulls the blankets higher. This time, everything will be okay.

* * *

Being apart in the heat of the season is not quite the same as at the end. They have fewer opportunities to talk, schedules changing with each series and one or both of them often too tired at the end of the day to do more than text a quick goodnight.

Anders is disappointed when Karl informs him he can’t attend the All-Star Game, not realizing how much he had been looking forward to seeing his boyfriend again until he knows he will not. He tries not to let his unhappiness show, but Karl sounds as miserable as he feels.

The problem, Anders begins to notice, is that Karl’s attitude doesn’t seem to spring back as quickly as his own. And, as Anders soon finds out, Karl is just as reluctant to speak about things over the phone as he was last year.

Anders plops down next to Justice one afternoon as the pair change for practice, glum look on his face.

“I need your advice,” he sighs, closing his eyes and letting his head thump against the locker.

“Go ahead,” Justice replies, not looking up from where he’s rummaging through his bag.

“I’m worried about Karl.”

Justice turns to look at him sharply, pausing.

“Why?”

“It’s like we’re back to the way things were at the end of last season. Or the beginning of this one. He won’t talk to me about anything.”

Justice hums thoughtfully, continuing to dress.

“What has you worried that you feel warrants a conversation?” he asks after a few moments.

“Well,” Anders begins, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts. “He was really bummed out after he couldn’t go to the All-Star Game with me – we both were – but he’s sort of never gotten out of that mood. He won’t tell me how his games are going, or how he’s doing in general, and whenever we talk it’s always really short and full of a lot of awkward silences. _If_ he wants to talk at all – half the time he just texts me that he’s too tired and that’s our conversation for the day.”

He looks at Justice forlornly.

“I just don’t know what to do.”

Justice sighs, sitting down next to him.

“I will speak to him,” he says. Anders looks ready to protest, so he holds up a hand, quieting him. “I will not tell him you said anything, merely check in. Perhaps he does not want to worry you with whatever’s bothering him and may tell me.”

“And then you’ll tell _me_ , right?”

“If it’s something I can share,” Justice says cautiously. “I will not betray his confidence.”

Anders groans, letting his head drop.

“I understand,” he mumbles. “Just…good luck. I hope it works.”

Justice calls him that evening after their game. Anders has already showered and changed for bed, waiting for Karl’s return text from the one he sent almost an hour ago.

“I spoke to Karl,” Justice begins.

Anders inhales sharply. “And?”

“He said he is fine.”

Anders sighs, slumping on the couch.

“Well, of _course_ he’s going to tell you he’s fine,” he scoffs. “But _is_ he?”

Justice is quiet for a moment before responding.

“I don’t believe so,” he finally says. “I tried to press him to speak more, ask him what his routine is like, etcetera. He got defensive and tried to change the subject until he finally said he was tired and needed to sleep.”

“That’s pretty much what I expected,” Anders replies glumly. “He can’t…I don’t know. He pulls into himself when he’s like this and I know he just sits there and lets all those negative thoughts swirl around in his head until he can’t take it anymore.”

“Anders,” Justice starts, somewhat hesitantly. “I believe he’s depressed.”

“I _know_ he is,” Anders responds. “That’s why I’m so worried.”

“No,” Justice clarifies. “I don’t mean just upset, I mean psychologically.”

“I _know_ ,” Anders yells again, jumping up to pace the room. “He fucking explained it all to me last year, I _know_ what’s happening to him, and I can’t even be there to help now that I know what it is. _Fuck_ , this why I didn’t want him to go!”

He slams his fist onto the kitchen table, wincing at the pain.

“ _Anders_ ,” Justice barks. “Calm yourself.”

Anders takes a deep breath, forcing himself to sit down and swallow the anger and worry threatening to overwhelm him.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m just…”

He’s suddenly exhausted, resting his head in his hand as he bites back the tears welling in his eyes.

“I’m so fucking _worried_ ,” he explains, voice cracking. He can hear Justice sigh on the other end, and it gives him some small relief that the other man understands – at least to a certain extent – how he feels.

“What about his family?” Justice asks. “Can you contact them?”

Anders snorts, shaking his head even though he knows Justice can’t see.

“They wouldn’t even answer me if I tried,” he sneers. “They want nothing to do with him. Or me.”

“Perhaps then…” Justice muses before pausing.

“Perhaps?”

“Perhaps you should go see him,” Justice finishes. “Do you know where he is staying?”

“Yeah, in the same complex our – his – old apartment was in. No idea which apartment number, though.”

“Don’t tell him you’re coming,” Justice instructs. “You know he will make excuses and try to keep you away. Find a day that will work for you both, and just go.”

Anders doesn’t reply for a moment, mulling over the words. He knows Karl will initially be upset at his unexpected arrival, but Justice’s advice hasn’t been wrong so far, and he needs to do _something_ …

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll figure something out. And in the meantime, if he…I don’t know, if he reaches out to you, just…”

“He knows he has my support,” Justice finishes kindly. “I have made that very clear to him on numerous occasions.”

Anders lets out a sigh of relief, although he doesn’t feel much better.

“Thanks.”

* * *

Anders is able to schedule his overnight visit a week after his phone call with Justice. He has an afternoon game on Sunday – Karl has a night game – and both have off on Monday. He leaves immediately after his game is over, arriving right as Karl’s is starting. He feels weird buying a ticket to watch essentially _his_ team, but he doesn’t want anyone to notice he’s there. His plan is to watch the game, then meet Karl in the parking lot afterward so they can go to his apartment together.

To his surprise, Karl is starting. Anders feels a pang of hurt in his chest, immediately pulling out his phone to text Justice.

 **Anders:** _Karl is STARTING the game tonight, wtf_

 **JUSTICE!:** _What?_

 **Anders:** _I’m at the game…he’s the fucking starting pitcher_

 **JUSTICE!:** _You did not know he was starting?_

 **Anders:** _No! did he tell you?_

 **JUSTICE!:** _No. I am as surprised as you are._

Anders doesn’t reply, simultaneously excited and disappointed at this new revelation. He watches Karl pitch masterfully through 6 innings, confident and poised and like the old Karl he saw last year. His excitement only grows the closer the game nears its end, until he’s finally, impatiently waiting near the player’s exit.

Karl doesn’t even notice him at first, head down with his bag slung over his shoulder as he makes his way to the lot.

“Hey, stranger. Looking for a good time?”

Karl jolts, whirling around with wide eyes until his gaze falls on Anders, grinning from ear-to-ear as he leans against the side of the building.

Karl’s speechless, opening and closing his mouth several times as he stares at his boyfriend in shock.

“So…” Anders says, pushing himself off the wall. “Is that a yes?”

Karl looks around quickly, trying to school his expression in case anyone walks by.

“What are you _doing_ here?” he hisses.

“Apparently watching you _start_ a fucking baseball game,” he retorts before he can stop himself. Karl flinches, guiltily looking at the ground.

“It’s not a big deal,” he mutters.

“We can talk about it later,” Anders backtracks, trying to diffuse the situation before it starts. “How about we just get home?”

They begin walking to the car in silence, Anders bumping shoulders with him occasionally with a grin. Karl eventually begins smiling shyly back, not speaking again until they reach the car.

“So why are you really here?” he asks once they’re safely in the privacy of the vehicle.

“Do I need a reason other than wanting to see my boyfriend?”

“Well…” Karl begins doubtfully. “I guess not, but…you didn’t mention anything about it.”

“Do you remember what happened the _last_ time I started bringing that up?”

Karl just smiles and shakes his head.

They make small talk until they make it back to his apartment, the familiarity of the building not exactly welcome. Anders had honestly hoped neither of them would be in a position to be back here, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

He pulls the other man into a kiss as soon as the apartment door closes behind him, Karl laughing and struggling against his hold.

“Are you still mad I’m here?” Anders purrs into his ear as he kisses down Karl’s neck.

“I never said I was mad,” Karl smiles. “Just confused.”

Anders pulls back, studying the man intently with a fond look. Karl flushes under the scrutiny, eventually looking away.

“How are you, love?” Anders quietly asks. “Honestly.”

Karl’s good mood disappears, glaring at Anders for a moment before untangling himself from his boyfriend’s arms and walking into the bedroom.

“That’s why you’re here, then?” he huffs. “Cause you’re freaking out about me again?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Anders says, following behind. Karl doesn’t reply, kicking off his shoes and grabbing his pajama bottoms.

“Karl, look at me for a second, please?” Anders urges. He rests a hand on his boyfriend’s arm, pleading with his eyes for the other man to listen. Karl takes a deep breath and looks up, meeting his gaze.

“I’m not going to insult you by telling you that’s not part of the reason why I’m here,” he begins softly. “But it’s not the _only_ reason. I miss you.”

He smiles, wrapping his arms around Karl’s waist and pulling him close.

“I hate being in that bed alone,” he pouts. “And that apartment…and that clubhouse. I was so spoiled with you around all the time, and I felt like being selfish for a change.”

Karl can’t help but smile at that, blushing slightly before resting his head on Anders’ shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” he murmurs, voice muffled by Anders’ shirt. “I was just trying not to think about it.”

“I know, love,” Anders replies, giving him a soft kiss. “But I’m here now, so let’s enjoy it.”

* * *

They make the most of their night together. Anders, to his surprise, is content to just hold Karl, happy to have the other man in his arms. Karl has other ideas, however, and he keeps his boyfriend up until the early morning hours.

When they finally wake up the next morning, long after the sun has already risen, Anders takes the opportunity to broach the subject. Early morning talks seem to work well for them, after all.

Karl must sense that Anders is getting ready to begin a discussion because he sighs and rolls onto his back, covering his eyes with one arm.

“What?” he deadpans.

“Am I that see-through?” Anders laughs, somewhat sheepishly.

Karl peeks an eye out from under his arm, staring for a moment before covering it again. Anders rolls over onto his side, draping one arm across Karl’s stomach before kissing his shoulder.

“I just want to talk,” he says quietly. “See how you’re doing with...everything.”

Karl doesn’t reply for a few moments and Anders starts to worry the other man has dozed off, until he finally drops his arm, giving Anders a weary smile.

“I’ll be okay, love,” he says. “Just gotta get through this.”

Anders smiles warmly, giving him another kiss.

“I’m so proud of you for saying that,” he whispers, running his hand up and down Karl’s arm. Karl gives him a noncommittal noise in response before rolling onto his side, back to Anders. The other man frowns, scooting over to press their bodies together.

“Love?”

“I don’t really feel like talking about it right now,” Karl grumbles. “Can we just…I don’t know, relax?”

Anders sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around his boyfriend’s body before kissing his shoulder.

“I _did_ come here partially to talk, you know,” he reminds him gently. “Although I’m always happy to have nights like last night.”

Karl snorts under him and Anders smiles.

“I’m just telling you there’s not much to talk about,” Karl says, looking over his shoulder. “So why waste the little time we have together on it?”

Anders feels like he should disagree, but a stronger part of him craves for this visit to be as enjoyable as possible. And he knows if he sets Karl off, the other man is likely to withdraw and they will barely speak the rest of the day.

He nestles closer to his boyfriend instead, getting comfortable as he lets out a resigned sigh.

“Whatever you want, love.”

* * *

Anders returns to Calenhad only slightly more relieved than when he left, but knowing there isn’t much he can do for his boyfriend, he has no choice but to wait.

Things go on much the same as before, although Karl makes more of an effort to speak to Anders – and even Justice, on occasion – over the next couple of weeks. Just that small difference is enough to encourage Anders somewhat, and he hopes the upswing continues.

That idea goes slightly south towards the middle of August.

The phone rings late one evening, hours after both his and Karl’s games have ended, and he’s pleasantly surprised when he sees Karl’s name pop up on his screen.

“Hey love,” he answers drowsily.

“Hey.”

“Mmph,” Anders grunts as he tries to prop himself up in bed. “How are you?”

“I have some news,” Karl responds, although he doesn’t sound exactly thrilled.

“Yeah?”

“I’m coming back.”

Anders sits up straight in bed, now fully awake as a wide grin spreads across his face.

“Are you fucking serious?” he laughs.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my _God_ , this is amazing!” Anders shouts. He laughs again, jumping out of bed to pace the room. “When are you coming back? Tomorrow? Do you need me to come get you?”

Karl snorts softly on the other end. “I can drive myself.”

Anders pauses, suddenly struck by the fact that Karl doesn’t seem exactly enthusiastic about the idea.

“Are you…not excited about this?” he asks, uncertainly.

“My mom called me today.”

Anders feels his stomach drop, all enthusiasm gone as he sits heavily down on the edge of the bed.

“And?”

“It was awkward as fuck, to start with,” Karl huffs out. “She asked how I was doing and if being back down here had ‘helped’ me any.”

“Well…that’s kind of the whole point of a rehab assignment,” Anders replies.

“Yeah, well, that’s basically what I said,” Karl continues, annoyed. “Anyway, what it boiled down to was whether or not I had ‘thought about my actions’ and was ready to speak to them again.”

Anders remains silent, fuming with anger and doing all he can to not have an outburst over the phone, knowing that will do nothing to help the situation.

“And?” he grits out, fist clenching.

“And I asked her what she meant,” Karl replies. “She thought that me being down here and away from _you_ might ‘clear my head’ a little.”

He laughs mirthlessly before letting out a deep breath.

“I regretfully had to inform her that I was still gay and still liked having your dick in my mouth. Among other places.”

“ _Karl._ ”

“I didn’t say it quite that crudely, don’t worry.”

Anders lets out a groan, bending over as he runs a hand through his hair. As much as he would _love_ to give Karl’s family a piece of his mind, he’s not going to make those comments to his boyfriend and make things worse. The silence must sober Karl somewhat because he remains silent for a few minutes.

“So yeah, she, um…” Karl inhales deeply before letting out a shaky breath. “She started crying and said she misses me, but then my dad snatched the phone away and hung up.”

Anders’ chest hurts, knowing the pain his boyfriend must be going through right now. He isn’t sure what to say, however, knowing that whatever words he gives will likely ring hollow.

“Can I do anything for you, love?” he asks quietly.

“Just…” Karl begins before stopping short. He pauses, Anders waiting breathlessly for a response as a knot of worry begins tightening in his stomach.

“Just…don’t be upset with me if I’m not in a great mood the next few days,” Karl finishes with another sigh.

“Absolutely not,” Anders immediately replies. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Just say the word.”

“Thanks,” comes the quiet reply. “But right now I think I just want to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Anders feels guilty at the small rush of excitement that replaces the worry at the words, knowing Karl will be back in his arms this time the next evening. He manages to restrain himself, exchanging a brief goodnight with his boyfriend before hanging up. He immediately opens the message box to text Justice.

 **Anders:** _KARL IS COMING HOME TOMORROW!_

 **JUSTICE!:** _That is wonderful news, Anders. I look forward to seeing him._

 **Anders:** _sound a little more enthusiastic!!!_

 **JUSTICE!:** _I am happy._

And a moment later -

 **JUSTICE!:** _It is also 2 a.m._

“Oops,” Anders says out loud, grinning to himself.

 **Anders:** _sorry! Go back to sleep, old man. I’ll see you tomorrow_

Anders tosses his phone on the table, smiling as he rolls back into bed.

* * *

Karl arrives that evening right before the start of the game, the rest of the team already at the park and ready to warm up. He appears in the doorway and looks around uncertainly before catching Justice’s eye.

“He’s here,” Justice murmurs to Anders, the other man’s head snapping to the door. They break into identical grins as their eyes lock, Anders lifting his arms up in the air in victory.

“The prodigal son returns!” he calls, the rest of the men in the locker room turning to look as well. The other bullpen pitchers all start cheering or calling out good-natured insults – the tight-knit group happy to see one of their own back – while most of the other players return to their own business after a couple of seconds.

Karl grins and blushes slightly, shaking hands or giving brief hugs to the men who approach him before he makes his way over to where Anders and Justice are waiting.

“I saved your locker for you,” Anders grins, gesturing at the empty space between his locker and Justice’s.

“I’m shocked you didn’t take it over for yourself,” Karl smirks, immediately starting to unpack his things.

Anders can’t even speak, happiness radiating off of him as he watches Karl, the other man occasionally turning to look at him with a soft smile. Justice eventually clears his throat, both men turning to look.

“You are making me jealous, leaving me out of this silent conversation,” he says with a pointed look at them both.

The other two flush slightly, Anders turning back to his own locker to resume changing for the game. Karl smiles, pulling Justice into a hug.

“How could I ignore my favorite person on the whole team?” he laughs as they pull apart.

“Hey!” Anders protests.

Justice smirks, shaking his head. Anders sits heavily in his chair, pouting at the two men.

“Now my feelings are hurt.”

Karl rolls his eyes as he turns to look at his boyfriend with a grin. “No, they’re not.”

“They are!” Anders insists, throwing a glove at Karl’s leg. “I hope you’re prepared to make it up to me.”

“Anders…” Justice sighs.

“He knows I’m teasing,” Anders scoffs. He glances at Karl briefly, the other man smiling as he laces up his shoes. “Right, Karl?”

Karl pretends to startle, face going blank.

“You were joking?” he asks. “So much for my plans. Guess it’s an early bedtime for me, then.”

“Justice!” Anders whines. “Look what you did!”

Justice shrugs with a small smile before standing and stretching.

“I would suggest you save the rest of this for when you get home,” he advises them with another look.

The other men nod, sufficiently chastised, as they quickly finish dressing and grab their equipment. Karl and Anders are the last two to leave the locker room, and Anders can’t resist pulling the other man off to the side just quick enough to plant a barely-there kiss on his lips.

“Welcome back, love.”

* * *

Karl ends up pitching that same night – only one inning, their manager deciding that trial by fire was the best approach rather than allowing Karl to stew over when his time might come. He pitches a one-two-three inning, the men in the dugout all filing over to the stairs to congratulate him when he returns to the bench.

Anders usually sits in the back with the other starters on days he’s not pitching, keeping to themselves as they observe the game. Tonight, however, he makes his way over to where Justice is sitting, opting to join the two men already immersed in conversation.

“Great job,” he smiles at Karl, clapping him on the back. Karl grins widely, nodding his thanks.

“I felt good,” he replies.

“You _looked_ good,” Anders confirms, punctuating it with a brief rise of an eyebrow. Justice shoots him a warning frown and Anders bursts out laughing. He pats Karl on the knee, relaxing back against the bench as he turns his attention to the field.

“It’s good to have you back.”

* * *

After the novelty of Karl’s return wears off after a couple of days, the pair settles back into the routine they had established before he left. There’s little to no baseball talk while at home, the couple – Anders especially – focused on their personal relationship rather than professional one. Karl does initiate baseball-related conversations more often, but Anders is wary of letting this become commonplace. Things are good, and he intends for them to remain that way.

Things are also going well for Karl on the field. He’s pitching with more regularity, and although not perfect, his performances are strong and get the job done. He no longer returns to the locker room after every game with his shoulders slumped and head down, not able to meet his teammate’s eyes.

To say Anders is proud is an understatement. The happiness and contentment on his boyfriend’s face at the end of the day is worth more than any accolades he may receive himself.

It hits him like a punch to the gut one evening as they’re lying on the couch, laughing over some inane sitcom, how much Karl’s happiness means to him. He didn’t think it was possible to care for someone else this much, to put their well-being over his own to the point where he hasn’t even thought about his own wants outside of Karl. It’s almost overwhelming.

Karl must notice his change in mood because he cranes his neck up from where he’s lying on Anders’ lap, looking at his boyfriend with concern.

“Love?”

Anders smiles softly at him, running his thumb across Karl’s cheek. This only causes Karl’s frown to deepen and he sits up, searching Anders’ face with worry.

“What’s wrong?”

Anders kisses him, softly, but for a few beats longer than normal.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” Anders murmurs, pressing their foreheads together.

“Yes?”

Anders chuckles quietly, giving him another kiss.

“Then there’s nothing wrong at all.”

* * *

Karl is moved back to long relief, pitching two or three innings at a time when needed. Anders doesn’t want to get his hopes up that this might mean a starting spot is in his future, but he can tell it’s been on Karl’s mind as well.

Anders is due to start a few days later, and he can immediately feel something’s off when the day arrives. He wakes up feeling sore, tired, and generally out of sorts. He goes about his routine like usual, hoping that a strong cup of coffee and some fresh air will help, but by the time he and Karl arrive at the park he can tell that’s not the case.

“I don’t want to say anything,” Anders says stubbornly as they’re changing. “If they know I don’t feel well then they’re going to keep me on a tight leash, and I don’t need anyone breathing over my shoulder while I’m trying to work.”

“Yeah, but maybe the trainer can give you something,” Karl argues. “You can’t go out there feeling like your body is going to fall apart. You won’t last two innings.”

Anders slumps in his seat, grumbling under his breath as Karl exchanges a look with Justice. The catcher sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before fixing Anders with a determined stare.

“Anders, at least let them know you are feeling this way,” Justice says. Anders opens his mouth to protest but Justice continues. “You may tell them you still feel healthy enough to play, but do not go out there as if nothing is wrong.”

Karl nods in agreement, giving his boyfriend a hopeful smile.

“It’ll be fine,” Karl encourages. “Just go get it over with and we can warm up.”

Anders disappears and by the time he returns, the other men are ready to head out to the field. He grabs his things without a word and the trio goes outside, Anders and Justice heading to the bullpen to practice throwing while Karl joins the other pitchers.

The game does not go well.

The team they’re playing is stronger, faster, and better in every respect – something that normally wouldn’t be a challenge for Anders. But as the innings go on, he can feel his energy and control rapidly deplete. Justice makes repeated trips to the mound to check on him, Anders shrugging him off every time. He _knows_ he’s pitching like shit, but if they would just give him a few more throws…

The manager comes to take him out in the 4th inning after giving up six runs, signaling for Karl to come in and take his place. Anders isn’t pleased, yelling expletives loud enough to be picked up on camera. None of his teammates look at him as he storms into the dugout, throwing his glove hard enough to knock one of the water coolers over. He can’t even be bothered to sit down, pacing angrily at one end of the dugout and occasionally shouting obscenities. Without Justice there to calm him down, no one else even bothers to try.

He finally settles down once the inning resumes and Karl has sufficiently warmed up. The only thing that somewhat takes away the sting is that it’s Karl out there replacing him. He settles down, still far from everyone else, to watch his boyfriend pitch.

Karl does well, easily ending the inning without giving up any more runs. Anders doesn’t make a move to sit near him when they return to the dugout, not wanting to give off any of his negative vibe. He can see both Justice and Karl glance his way out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t look over.

Karl returns at the top of the 5th, retiring the first two pitchers with ease. Their biggest hitter is coming up last, however, and Justice takes his time making sure Karl is confident in what he wants to throw. Anders leans forward, chewing absentmindedly on his thumb as he watches Karl wind up.

And then, his entire world stops.

One second, Karl is throwing. The next, the man is crumpled in a heap on the mound, unmoving, as their teammates and coaches rush to his side. Anders doesn’t care who’s watching, he leaps over the dugout fence and charges to the mound, pushing his way to the center.

He’s about to kneel down at Karl’s side until he feels an arm circle his waist and pull him back. He and Justice exchange a look before Justice removes his hold and Anders is forced to watch and do nothing as Karl cries out in pain when the trainers attempt to move him. His arm is resting at an unnatural angle, the trainers attempting to get him stabilized before moving him to the stretcher that has now been brought out.

Anders bites his lip so hard he can taste blood, arms wrapped around himself tightly to resist the urge to reach out and comfort the man he loves more than anything. He knows Karl can’t focus enough to see him - probably has no idea he’s even standing there - but he wants nothing more than to be able to touch him and let him know wherever he goes, Anders will follow.

The paramedics eventually get Karl moved to the stretcher, belting him down before briskly carrying him to the locker room. Karl has his teeth clenched, eyes tightly shut as tears stream down the sides of his face.

Justice shoots Anders another look but Anders has had enough. He can’t sit by while his boyfriend is like this, onlookers or gossips be damned. He’ll do everything he can to be discrete but there’s no way in hell he’s going to let Karl go through this alone.

He follows the paramedics into the locker room, earning confused looks, but his gaze is focused on Karl alone.

“Sir, we’re taking him to the hospital,” one of the men says. “You’ll have to remain—“

“I’m coming with you,” Anders interrupts.

“Sir, that’s not—“

“Don’t argue with me,” Anders growls. “This is my b…”

He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise before taking a deep breath.

“This is my best friend and it’s my fault he was out there. I need to make sure he’s okay.”

“Alright,” one of the men says uncomfortably. “But you can’t ride in the ambulance.”

They give him the name of the hospital they’re taking Karl to, and Anders begins changing out of his uniform and back into his street clothes, gathering up Karl’s things as well.

He’s just about finished when Cullen walks back into the locker room, giving Anders an apprehensive look.

“Coach says you need to get back out there,” he says bluntly.

“Tell coach tough shit,” Anders snaps back, shrugging on his shirt. “I’m going to the hospital.”

“You can’t just leave in the middle of a game.”

“Like hell I can’t!” Anders shouts back. He points toward the door, feeling the heat rise in his face. “That’s _Karl_ they just took away. I’m not going to sit here and watch the rest of this shit while he’s out there.”

“This is your _job_ , Anders,” Cullen argues back, his face flushed red with anger. He takes a few steps closer.

“And that man means more to me than this job or anything else in the world,” Anders grits out, stepping forward so they’re almost touching. “So fuck you and fuck coach and fuck everything else. I’m leaving.”

With one more withering glare, he turns on his heels and picks up the two bags, stalking purposefully towards the door to the parking lot. Cullen remains rooted in his spot, staring in stunned silence.

“You’re going to get in a lot of shit for this, you know!” he calls.

Anders lifts his free hand, and after one triumphant display of a finger, slams the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda consider this the penultimate chapter in this fic since ch. 10 is an epilogue. I know a lot of stuff happened and there were a few highs and lows (the inadequate dick scene is one of my faves lol) but I'm hoping I didn't cram too much into one chapter. Cause otherwise we would be here for a lot longer and I know you're all ready to get back to the main fic. 
> 
> Also, I have no intentions of making Cullen a villain, despite how he comes off here. This is potentially the last time we'll see him unless he makes an as-yet-unwritten cameo in the next chapter. 
> 
> I love Justice's name in Anders' phone.
> 
> Thank you again for all of your comments and support <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please make note of the tag updates. This is the big one.
> 
> I'm not 100% happy with this chapter, but I know at this point I'll never be. I'm going to apologize in advance, but I'll apologize more profusely in the end notes. 
> 
> Again, not beta'd, so any mistakes you can blame on me. This chapter is ridiculously long to make up for being so late.

He remembers the end.

Anders can do little to quell the disturbing thoughts that take over his brain once he’s alone again. He follows the ambulance to the hospital, forced to remain in the waiting room for hours on end with no word. Justice joins him once the game is finished, warning him that the coaches are none too pleased by his departure. Anders shrugs it off, unconcerned. He’ll deal with that when he has to.

Eventually, a doctor comes out, eyes searching for someone who must look more like Karl until a nurse points Anders out. The doctor gestures for Anders to follow to a more private area, which turns out to be his office. Anders vaguely recognizes the man, pretty sure that he’s the physician hired by the team.

“Does Mr. Thekla not have any family, or are they on the way?” the doctor asks as he shuts the door behind them. Anders is immediately gripped by fear.

“Is it that bad?” he rasps out. “I don’t think they know. I didn’t…should I call them?”

The doctor shakes his head, gesturing for Anders to sit. Anders refuses with a small shake of his own, bracing his hands across the back of the chair instead.

“Legally, I’m not supposed to give out any information on his condition except to those he has authorized,” the doctor explains. Anders’ heart sinks, but the man continues.

“But considering _your_ name was the only thing out of his mouth before he went under, I’m going to guess he would be fine with it.”

He gives Anders a pointed look. “I never said that, mind you. As far as the gentleman outside is concerned, along with anyone else, I haven’t told you a single thing.”

Anders nods his head eagerly, rounding the side of the chair to sit.

“I won’t say anything,” he lies. There’s no way he can keep this from Justice. “Just please, tell me how he is.”

The doctor places an x-ray onto the display board and Anders can feel his stomach drop. Karl’s arm is in three very distinct pieces.

“I probably don’t have to explain much,” the doctor begins. “He’s already undergone one surgery, but there was internal bleeding to contend with.”

“Fuck,” Anders mutters, rubbing his eyes.

“We’ve stabilized him for now, but we won’t know the full extent of the damage for some time,” the man continues. “He may have nerve or blood vessel damage on top of the bone injury. Right now he has a lot of metal in there holding him together, so we’ll have to reevaluate their permanence as time goes on.”

Anders swallows, eyes fixed on the screen. He finally takes a deep breath and looks at the doctor, who seems to know the question that’s coming.

“Will he pitch again?”

The man lets out a deep breath, shaking his head slightly.

“I can’t say for certain because there’s always a chance,” he says. “But in my professional opinion…no.”

Anders leans forward, resting his arms on the desk in front of him and lowering his head. He can feel the tears stinging his eyes, threatening to fall as he forces himself to breathe. Does Karl know? Is he even awake? Will _he_ have to be the one to break the news?

“How long will he be in here?” Anders asks after a minute, once he feels like he can speak again.

“I’d like to keep him for observation until at least tomorrow night.”

“He, um,” Anders begins, clearing his throat. “He has medication that he takes. Should I go home and get his things?”

The doctor cocks his head, studying Anders curiously for a moment. Anders pleads with him silently with his eyes, begging him not to ask. The doctor eventually nods, gathering up some papers.

“I’ll put you on the list for family visits,” he says, not looking at Anders. “Mr. Thekla may revoke those rights if he wishes, of course, but if he is able to leave tomorrow, I will turn him over to your care.”

Anders feels his eyes well up again and he stands, hoping the firm squeeze in his handshake can convey the thanks he can’t speak.

By this point in the night visiting hours are over, so Anders returns to the waiting room where Justice still waits. He knows he’ll barely be able to sleep tonight, but at least he can gather Karl’s things and be there first thing in the morning. He wants to be by his side when Karl wakes up.

Justice looks up when Anders approaches, concern lining his face.

“Come on,” Anders sighs, trudging towards the door. “I’ll tell you about it outside.”

* * *

Justice opts to follow Anders back home, offering to stay the night and drive him to the hospital the next morning, but Anders refuses.

“You are going to get a phone call about this,” Justice reminds him as he prepares to leave. Anders groans, squeezing his eyes shut. He forgot about the team.

“Let me think about it,” he finally sighs. “Maybe if I can explain the situation…”

“You are going to tell them?” Justice asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“No,” Anders shakes his head. “But I mean, if I let them know Karl doesn’t have anyone else…”

Justice hums but says nothing, doubtful look on his face.

“I will do what I can to help,” he says after a moment. “Just ask.”

“Thank you,” Anders murmurs, pulling the man into a brief hug. “I’ll let you know what’s going on tomorrow.”

He manages to get a couple hours of fitful sleep before his alarm goes off the next morning. After a quick jump in the shower, he grabs a small bag with Karl’s things and heads out. He makes a brief stop at a local convenience store to pick up some food for them both – assuming Karl even wants to eat – and makes it there right as visiting hours begin.

He’s directed to Karl’s room, not sure if he’s relieved or upset when he sees the man still sleeping. There’s no one else in the room when he arrives, so he pulls a chair over to the bedside and makes himself comfortable, preparing to wait however long is necessary. A nurse comes in after a short while, informing Anders that Karl has not, in fact, woken up yet and updates him on his condition. Anders nods in relief and goes over some other pertinent medical details with her. He’s slightly amazed at how much knowledge of the other man he has accrued in their short time together and he feels a sense of pride that he’s able to help.

Despite the nurse’s guess that Karl would wake “soon,” another hour and a half go by with no movement. Anders is just about ready to doze off himself, trying to fight the restlessness from sitting in one place for so long, when his phone rings. A quick glance shows that it’s coming from the ballpark.

“You better have a damn good reason for this,” comes the voice on the other end, not even bothering with a greeting.

“Karl is still unconscious but he’s doing okay, thanks for asking,” Anders snaps back.

“I know how Thekla is, I called the hospital this morning,” his manager barks. “What I don’t know is why _you_ think you can charge out in the middle of a game without permission. Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Anders can feel his anger rapidly rising to the surface, and he stands, moving closer to the window in an effort to keep his voice from reaching the hall.

“I knew you wouldn’t let me go, so I didn’t bother asking,” Anders replies, keeping his voice down. “And I’m the best fucking pitcher in this league, so you can cut the bullshit right now before I start rethinking my contract options.”

“You think you can threaten me?” the other man asks incredulously. “You’re _nobody._  I don’t care how good you think you are. You’ve got a lot of fucking—“

“Then suspend me,” Anders cuts in through gritted teeth. “Because I’m not coming in today, either. You go ahead and tell everyone what a ‘nobody’ I am and see how fast I’m fucking out of here.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, hanging up the phone and pocketing it before leaning against the windowsill and taking a few deep breaths. He hears the phone ring again faintly in his pocket, but he ignores it.

After willing his breathing and blood pressure to return to normal he turns around, stopping short at the sight in front of him.

“Are you causing trouble again?” Karl asks, giving him a weak smile.

Anders rushes over, feeling the tears prick the corners of his eyes. He leans over Karl’s good side, gingerly taking his face in both his hands and giving him a gentle kiss.

“When am I not?” Anders murmurs, smiling when Karl lets out a breathless chuckle. He presses their foreheads together, Karl giving him another kiss before nudging him away.

“Probably shouldn’t be seen like this,” he says uncomfortably.

Anders smiles but doesn’t argue, pulling his chair up once more to sit by his side.

“So, what was that about?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Anders waves it off. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” Karl grimaces. “Or a 95mph fastball.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Anders whispers, looking down at his feet. “I...It’s my fault.”

“Uh… _how,_ exactly?” Karl asks, dumbfounded.

“I was so stubborn about pitching,” Anders mutters. “If I had just let myself be taken out when they wanted instead of letting the game get that out of control, maybe you wouldn’t have come in for that batter and…”

“Oh my fucking God, just stop,” Karl groans, rolling his eyes. “I know you think you’re a god, but even _you_ had no control over any of that.”

Anders knows he’s partly joking but he doesn’t crack a smile, nor does he meet Karl’s eyes. They sit silently for a few moments until he feels Karl’s hand reach over to take his.

“Anders, you can’t blame yourself for this,” he says quietly.

“I can’t help it!” Anders bursts out. He takes a moment to swallow the lump in his throat. “I just…I’m sorry.”

He looks away again and hears Karl sigh softly off to his side, the hand in his squeezing briefly.

“Well, I don’t blame you,” Karl says after a moment. “And we don’t even know how bad it is. I could be in rehab in a few weeks.”

Anders sucks in a breath, heart jumping with the realization that Karl hasn’t spoken to anyone since he was admitted. He has no idea of the extent of his injuries.

“I, um…” Anders begins. He’s already second-guessing whether he should say anything, but he’d rather soften the blow a bit.

“I talked to the doctor for a bit yesterday,” he continues. “Don’t say anything, since he wasn’t supposed to release the information to me. Because I’m not family and all.”

He gives Karl a teasing smile, lifting his hand to kiss the back.

“Told you we should have gotten married,” he says lightly, smiling wider when Karl chuckles.

“Taking advantage of my condition,” Karl scoffs. “You play dirty.”

Anders laughs, the smile soon disappearing as he continues.

“Anyway…you were hurt pretty bad,” he murmurs. “I saw your x-rays, but I didn’t get a whole lot of details about your reconstruction or recovery time. You want me to go get the doctor?”

Karl studies him for a minute, worrying his bottom lip.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Anders looks up sharply, eyes wide.

“Nothing,” he says immediately. “I really don’t know much, we only talked for a couple of minutes. And half of that was him warning me not to tell anyone I talked to him at all.”

Karl smirks a little at that before nodding his head.

“Might as well get this over with, then.”

Anders sneaks a quick kiss before reaching over to press the call button for the nurse. The same doctor Anders saw the evening before appears a few minutes later, looking between the two for a moment before nodding at Anders in greeting.

“He can stay,” Karl says to the unasked question. “He’s the closest thing I have to family right now. Thank you for letting him in...but he won’t tell me anything.”

Anders opens his mouth to protest, but Karl shoots him a look. Whether it’s Karl’s way of protecting him or he just wants to hear the words come from the source, Anders isn’t sure. But he shuts his mouth and sits back in his seat, fighting the urge to reach out and take Karl’s hand once more.

The doctor begins explaining the situation to Karl much like he did to Anders the night before, and Anders can see Karl trying to hide his impatience with all of the medical jargon.

“How much recovery time will I need?” Karl asks towards the end.

“Total?” the doctor shrugs. “I’d say six months is being optimistic.”

“Fuck,” Karl sighs quietly, letting his head fall back on the pillow. “So much for pitching anymore this season. Will I be ready for spring training next year?”

Anders locks eyes with the doctor briefly, a move that doesn’t go unnoticed by Karl. He looks between the two of them, realization dawning on his face. He closes his eyes, lips pressed tightly together before letting out a deep breath.

“Will I ever be ready?”

“There’s always a chance,” the doctor says, repeating the words he gave Anders less than 12 hours ago. “But I think it’s an extremely thin one. I’m sorry, Mr. Thekla.”

Karl doesn’t respond, just nods his head and swallows thickly before turning his head to the side. Anders stands, placing his hand firmly on the doctor’s back to steer him toward the door.

“Thank you for coming by,” Anders says as they walk into the hall. “I guess someone will come let us know when he can be released?”

The doctor raises an eyebrow for a split second, fixing Anders with a doubtful look.

“Don’t you have a game tonight?” he asks. “We can wait until the morning if that’s—“

“I’m not going,” Anders interrupts quickly. “So whenever you think he’s able, I’m sure he’d be glad to get out of here.”

The doctor nods, promising to be in touch, and Anders returns to the room. Karl can’t exactly lie on his side comfortably with the way his arm is positioned, so he just has his face pressed into the pillow as far as he’s able to stretch it. Anders quietly shuts the door behind him, giving them whatever privacy he can for at least a few minutes.

He doesn’t say anything as he approaches the bed and without even a second thought as to what it might look like should someone come in, he slides into the cramped space, wrapping an arm around Karl’s side. The other man doesn’t say a word, although he can hear the choked sob muffled in the pillow. He has no idea what kind of soothing words he can possibly give his boyfriend at a time like this, so he decides to remain silent and let Karl work through the shock on his own. He stays curled up against him, pressing brief kisses onto the back of his neck every once in a while.

Eventually, Karl calms down enough to look over his shoulder at Anders, who hands him a box of tissues. Karl accepts them gratefully, and after cleaning himself up, he moves to shift onto his back. It makes the space even smaller, but Anders just gets up to reposition himself on Karl’s good side, refusing to leave. He props himself up on one elbow, resting his head in his hand as he smiles tenderly at his boyfriend. His free hand now cups Karl’s face, thumb lightly rubbing his cheek.

“What am I going to do?” Karl finally whispers. “Baseball is my entire life. I’m nothing without it.”

“Don’t say that,” Anders murmurs in response, giving him a lingering kiss. “We’ll figure it out. You just need to focus on healing right now.”

“’We’ll’ figure it out?” Karl scoffs, looking away. “What could you possibly want with me now? I'm worthless.”

Anders’ chest aches, the sting of his words no less painful than any other time Karl has tried to brush off their relationship as something much less than it is.

“The same thing I’ve always wanted,” Anders whispers, punctuating his sentence with another kiss. “You.”

Karl grimaces, unbelieving, before looking away.

“You need to get out of my bed, Anders. Someone is going to see us.”

Anders gently grabs his chin and turns his face back in his direction.

“I am not getting out of this bed until you believe me,” he teases with a fond smile. “You could have been anyone who wandered onto the field that first day and I _still_ would have chased after you.”

Karl snorts but doesn’t look any more convinced. He remains silent, finally shaking his head and looking sadly at Anders.

“I’ll give you your out now,” he says quietly, with a small smile. “If you want to leave, I won’t blame you. I’ll call my parents and have them take me home and we don’t have to…whatever. Go through all this pretending that things are alright. No hard feelings.”

Anders sits up, staring at his boyfriend in absolute disbelief.

“Karl, you _broke your fucking arm_ ,” he sputters. “You’re not dying! You’ll be healthy in a few months...why would you think things aren’t alright?”

He narrows his eyes for a moment, considering.

“If you want to go to your parents’ while you’re rehabbing, then that’s up to you, but I’d rather you go home.”

“That is my—“

“ _Our_ home,” Anders interrupts firmly. “Here. Or if you want an actual house, then Haven. You don’t have to feel forced back into that situation with people who don’t care about you when you have plenty of people here that do.”

Karl’s face scrunches up and he looks away again, redness creeping in as he fights to hold back his tears.

“Love, don’t get upset,” Anders whispers, leaning down to kiss him. “I'm sorry. We’ll get through this, I promise.”

Karl chokes on another sob, reaching up with his good arm to drag Anders down and hold him tight. Anders makes soothing noises as Karl’s body shakes beneath him.

“I love you,” he murmurs into Karl’s shirt. “I love you, you’re going to be fine.”

* * *

Karl is released from the hospital that evening. Right in the middle of the game they both should rightfully be at, Anders thinks. He doesn’t say a word of it to Karl, however, just helps him with his things and gets him settled in the apartment.

The other man is morose and frustrated over his limited mobility. He nearly breaks down trying to rid himself of his clothes that evening, looking away in shame as Anders does the rest for him.

“You’ll get the hang of it, love,” Anders smiles at him. “Not that I will _ever_ complain about tearing your clothes off.”

Karl isn’t in the mood for jokes, offering a weak smile before rolling into bed, Anders curling up behind him the best he’s able.

Anders returns to the team the next day, walking into a tense and unusually quiet locker room. He grins at them all as he enters, a few men chuckling and shaking their heads while the rest stare at him in open hostility. He’s surprised at how little it bothers him. He knows he made the right decision, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Justice is standing by his locker, as usual, and pulls Anders into a brief hug when they meet.

“How is he?” Justice asks quietly.

“Frustrated,” Anders sighs. “I really didn’t want to leave him.”

“He will be alright,” Justice replies. “He must get used to it.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Justice smiles, patting him on the back before continuing to dress.

“He is lucky to have you.”

Anders shoots him a look and mumbles something under his breath that Justice can’t catch, cocking his head to the side to look at Anders instead.

“What?”

“I said, it’s my fault he’s like this to begin with, the least I can do is help.”

Justice blinks at him for a few moments, Anders pointedly ignoring his gaze.

“Please tell me you did not say that to Karl,” Justice sighs after a few moments. Judging by the shifty glance Anders gives him, he knows the answer.

“Perhaps I can stop by tomorrow and see him,” Justice offers instead when Anders doesn’t respond.

“I’ll have to talk to him first,” the other man shifts uncomfortably. “He’s not really up for visitors and I don’t want to spring it on him, you know?”

Justice hums in agreement and lets the subject drop as he sees one of the coaches approach out of the corner of his eye.

“Anders, do not say anything stupid,” he mutters.

Anders looks up, brow furrowed until he catches sight of the same man stomping his way. His expression changes to one of anger almost immediately and he stands straighter, bracing his shoulders.

“You,” the man says, pointing at him. “Come with me.”

Anders grins, completely aware that every pair of eyes in the room is focused on him.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he quips, following along.

He ends up suspended for two games, although he’ll still make his next start. It’s not much in the way of actual punishment, and Anders has a feeling it’s more for show than anything else. He leaves the office with the same cocky grin he had upon entering it.

Justice lifts his eyebrows in question once Anders returns.

“You’ll have to make do without me for the next couple of days,” Anders laughs.

Justice chuckles quietly, shaking his head. A few of their other teammates stop by to ask about Karl, now that the drama is dealt with, knowing the pair share an apartment. Anders pastes on a smile and tells them Karl is being a pain in the ass and treating Anders like a servant, but he’s alright otherwise. The men send their well-wishes, which Anders accepts with a nod.

The longer he remains in the room, next to Karl’s still-full locker but without the man himself, the more the ache grows in his chest. He holds it in until the rest of the team – minus Justice – has vacated the room, and then sits down with a heavy thud, head in his hands.

“It will be fine,” Justice says, sitting down opposite him. Anders just shakes his head, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he will most likely never see Karl in this room with him again, laughing and joking as they get changed. It’s not the same as when he was sent down to the minors – back then there was always the promise of his return to cling to.

“What am I supposed to do without him?” Anders moans into his hands.

“Pitch,” Justice responds simply. “The reason you are here to begin with. You can’t let this distract you.”

Without warning, Anders throws his glove as hard as he can across the room, knocking over one of the other player’s chair.

“Like hell I can’t,” he growls. “You _know_ that’s all I’m going to be able to think about the next time I’m out there.”

“And I’m telling you, you _can’t_ ,” Justice retorts. “Or if you must, focus it into something productive.”

His face softens after a moment as Anders paces the floor, barely keeping himself together.

“I will help you,” Justice says softly. Anders looks up, and Justice realizes he hasn’t noticed how _tired_ the other man looks. How, despite his cocky exterior, this must be weighing on him more than he lets on. They stare at each other for a minute until Anders looks away, giving him a short nod.

They say nothing more, Anders grabbing his glove and straightening the mess he made, and the pair make their way onto the field, together.

* * *

Karl’s mood worsens, even as his arm heals.

He’s been putting off the phone call to his parents, wanting to wait until he feels stronger and more capable of handling the inevitable backlash he knows is coming. His parents reach out to him immediately after the injury – highlights are on the news for days, and they are none-too-pleased to find out this way instead of from their son himself – but Karl tries to ignore it. It gets to a point a few weeks later, however, that it’s all he can think of. Once Anders returns home from a road trip he asks the other man to sit with him while he forces himself to get the call over with.

It goes just about as badly as he expects, his father speaking aloud the number of insults Karl has been silently berating himself with over the last few weeks. He sits quietly and listens, Anders shaking with anger next to him, and Karl has to push his boyfriend’s hand away more than once when he tries to grab the phone. His mother is more concerned with his actual well-being, but his father doesn’t let her speak for long. Once she breaks down into a crying fit halfway through their conversation, his father snatches the phone away to lay into him all over again.

Karl calmly hangs up in the middle of his father’s second tirade, saying nothing. Anders remains quiet, gently pulling him to his side and the other man allows himself to be moved, curling up in the safety of his boyfriend’s arms. They remain that way for some time, Anders occasionally pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Karl doesn’t cry, or shout, or go on a rant of his own. He sits silently, allowing his mind to go blank and unfeeling until he falls asleep, Anders’ strong arms still wrapped securely around him.

* * *

About a month after his injury, and a week after the call to his parents, Karl decides to leave.

He springs it on Anders one evening at dinner. The Rebels have no game, so it’s a rare night that the pair can enjoy dinner together. They’re making generic small talk, although Karl is noticeably distracted. Anders is about to ask what Karl wants to do that evening when the other man abruptly looks up from his meal, looking almost as surprised as Anders at the words that come out of his mouth.

“I’m going to leave.”

“Huh?” Anders frowns.

Karl clears his throat, putting down his fork as he looks at his boyfriend.

“I just think…maybe it’s better if I leave.”

“Better for who?” Anders demands. “When did you decide this?”

“Better for me. And just now.”

“Did I do something?” Anders asks, slightly panicked. “What can I do to help you?”

“Not everything is about you,” Karl replies quietly, glancing around the room before his eyes land on Anders’ equipment near the door. “I just…I can’t be around these constant reminders anymore.”

Anders sighs, face dropping as he looks away. They’re both silent for a minute before Anders eventually reaches out and takes Karl’s hand across the table.

“I guess I understand, even if I don't like it,” he murmurs. “Let’s pick a day when I’m off, I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Karl shakes his head. “I can do it myself.”

“How are you going to move everything on your own?” Anders asks, eyebrows raised. “I don’t want you hurting yourself all over again.”

“How much am I bringing?” Karl retorts, small smile on his lips.  

Anders immediately opens his mouth to reply but stops, thinking.

“I’m just planning on packing my clothes,” Karl answers for him. Then, bitterly, “I don’t care what happens to my equipment. Toss it, if you want.”

“It’s staying here,” Anders replies firmly. “Just in case.”

Karl just shrugs and goes back to picking at his food.

“I’ll visit when I can,” Anders continues with another smile. “It’s not that far of a drive.”

“You don’t have to,” Karl repeats, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I know I don’t _have_ to,” Anders chuckles. “Maybe I want to see your face every once in a while.”

Karl smiles a bit and shrugs slightly.

“We can talk about it later,” he says. “I don’t want people noticing you leaving all the time. Then they start asking questions and—“

“And what do I care?” Anders cuts in. “My business is my own.”

Karl sighs, closing his eyes as he looks away. Anders can feel the tension radiating off of him and knows this isn’t a conversation Karl wants to have right now. Anders stays quiet for a moment, working through the thoughts that have been on his mind ever since Karl’s conversation with his parents. He’s been looking for a chance to bring it up, and even though it might not necessarily be the _best_ time, he realizes now that time is in short supply.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something, love,” Anders begins, tentatively. “Can we go into the living room?”

Karl gazes at him with growing suspicion but nods, following Anders into the adjoining room where they both curl up on the couch. Anders takes a moment to consider his next words as Karl shifts nervously next to him.

“I was just thinking…” Anders starts, taking Karl’s hand in his. “I know you didn’t want people knowing about us because you thought it would affect our reputations or…or whatever. But we have a chance now to come clean and, I don’t know, maybe we should take it?”

Karl stares at him with a blank expression, blinking his eyes as Anders looks away self-consciously.

“So…let me get this straight,” Karl says slowly, voice nearly a growl. “My career is basically over, and you want to announce we’re fucking for… _what_ reason, exactly?”

“First of all,” Anders retorts, “I consider our relationship a _little_ more than just fucking. And second, who says I want to announce it? I just don’t want to have to _hide_ it anymore.”

Karl sits fuming next to him, not remotely convinced, so Anders takes a deep breath and continues, slightly calmer.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to hold hands in public?” he asks, eyes pleading. “Be able to go out on real dates and not make sure we have the required five feet of decency between us?”

He smiles at his own joke, nudging Karl playfully with his knee. The other man remains unmoved.

“I’m just saying,” Anders sighs. “Your parents obviously already know. Weren’t they the ones you were worried about? What does it matter now?”

“ _How_ can you think it doesn’t matter?” Karl explodes, standing. He stalks the length of the room several times before he speaks again.

“Are you that oblivious?” he asks, eyes wild as he looks back at Anders. “Don’t you know how you’ll be treated? Maybe you can avoid the whispers or the jokes or the looks behind your back, but what about when they start treating you like you’re...you're different – _inferior_ \- to everyone else?”

“They won’t,” Anders shrugs, unconcerned. “No one can make me feel inferior without my consent, blah blah…”

“ _It’s not the fucking same,_ ” Karl yells. “No coach is going to want to put the fairy who sucks cock on the mound. It’ll be a PR disaster, you _know_ that. And you think the guys in the locker room are ever going to feel comfortable around you? What about the bullshit from the assholes in the stands or on the other fucking team when you’re trying to pitch? You think _anyone_ is going to stop them?”

Anders doesn’t respond, heart thudding in his chest at the outburst. Karl is breathing heavily, face beet red. He swipes at his eyes a couple times as he turns his back to Anders, trying to calm himself down.

“Please, just…” Karl finally murmurs. “Don’t do it. For me.”

Anders sighs, holding out his arms. Karl hesitates briefly, but eventually makes his way over and allows himself to be enveloped in the other man’s embrace.

Anders holds him, still not understanding his boyfriend’s point of view but not wanting to do anything to upset the delicate balance they now find themselves in. He allows Karl to take his time, relaxing in increments until he’s leaning heavily against the other man and Anders has to nearly drag him into bed.

“I’m sorry,” Anders murmurs once they’re settled. “I'm sorry, love. I won’t say a word.”

* * *

Karl leaves a few days later.

Anders arrives home from the game to see bags packed and waiting next to the apartment door. He comes face to face with Karl, surprise written on the other man’s face as he’s bringing out the last of his suitcases.

“Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?” Anders asks with a frown.

“Of course not,” Karl replies, giving him a small smile. “I was just getting everything ready. Figured it’d be less work and you’d be tired when you got home…”

Anders rolls his eyes but forces himself to smile, despite the dread clenching in his stomach. He’s not ready for this. Not yet.

“There’s no rush,” he murmurs, pulling Karl into his arms to plant a small kiss on his lips. “We can take all night to get you ready. Or week…or month…”

Karl sighs, resting his head on Anders’ shoulder. Anders can’t tell if the noise is from sadness, impatience, or something else, but he wishes he could pull more of a reaction from his boyfriend. Especially at a time like this.

“Are you leaving in the morning, then?” he asks instead.

Karl hesitates a moment but eventually nods his head.

“Then let’s enjoy our night together,” Anders murmurs. “Just promise you’ll be here in the morning.”

Karl whispers a belated “okay,” and Anders forces himself to believe it’s the truth.

* * *

Karl does leave the next morning, early enough that Anders has to flee the apartment to escape the sense of emptiness that already pervades it. He heads to the ballpark hours ahead of schedule, running through drills alone in an effort to occupy his mind.

They keep in touch, although Karl rapidly falls back to his old ways and their messages become sporadic after only a couple of weeks. Anders visits as frequently as he can, sometimes bringing Justice if it’s only a day trip. Karl is usually happy with the company, although Anders has a feeling the other man would encourage him not to make the trip if he could. Considering it’s Anders’ house, he doesn’t really have the right to keep him away.

Anders, for his part, loves seeing how thoroughly at home Karl has made himself. How clearly it has become _their_ home rather than just his. There’s no part of the house now that doesn’t have Karl’s touch.

He notices the change in Karl's mood gradually, distracted by the heat of the season and a long stretch of road games. Anders tries to keep in steady contact with his boyfriend regardless of whether he’s home or away, but he notices that Karl seems to be pulling away. The few times they do talk the other man doesn’t say much, claiming that life is boring at home and he’s doing little more than watching TV and trying to keep in shape, even without a functional arm.

“I’ll come see you once we get back to Calenhad,” Anders tells him one evening. “I haven’t been down there for a while, and I have an off day coming up.”

Karl is quiet for a moment, which in and of itself isn’t unusual, but Anders gets the sense that something more is wrong.

“Love?”

“Sorry,” Karl murmurs. “Yeah, if you want.”

Anders frowns, standing up to pace his hotel room.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s stupid.”

“Tell me,” Anders urges. “I’m sure it’s not stupid. Maybe I can help.”

“I just…” Karl starts. He lets out a huff of frustration and Anders can hear shuffling in the background, knowing Karl is probably wandering around some part of the house as well.

“You just…you said ‘ _I_ have an off day’ instead of ‘we’ and…it just made me upset. Like I said, it’s stupid.”

Anders feels a pang of sadness hit him in the chest and he sits back down, trying to think of something he can say. He wants to apologize, but he’s not sure what for. It’s not like he _meant_ to say something to upset his boyfriend. And, honestly, he doesn't know why it would even bother him.

“I’m sorry, love,” he eventually whispers. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault,” Karl responds. “I’m just not feeling great today.”

“What can I do?” Anders asks, desperate. “Just tell me.”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“There has to be _something_ ,” Anders insists. “Please, love. I want to help you.”

“I’m just so tired of feeling like this,” Karl bursts out. “I sit around all day and do nothing but feel like shit. I get set off by completely ridiculous little things like comments you make or someone looking at me the wrong way when I go to the store. I’m completely fucking worthless now."

“That’s not true!” Anders exclaims. “Love, you know none of that is true.”

He swallows the lump in his throat, forcing himself to remain calm. The last thing Karl needs right now is to know he upset him.

“You’re just recovering,” he continues. “It’s going to be tough to adjust, we both know that. But it doesn’t mean that you won’t.”

“How long are you going to keep believing that?” Karl shoots back. “How long until you get tired of me and just give up? I told you before, you’re better off without me.”

“Karl, I don’t even know what you’re _talking_ about,” Anders replies. Things are rapidly spiraling out of control, and he doesn’t want to end the conversation like this. He debates walking down to Justice’s room to see if the other man is awake and can talk some sense into Karl.

“Love, you don’t have to ‘do something’ to prove your worth,” he continues, struggling to keep his voice from cracking. “I love you no matter what. I just want you to be happy.”

Karl is quiet on the other end, and Anders begins to wonder if the other man hung up on him. He’s about to say something when he hears a quiet sigh.

“Would you miss me if I was gone?”

Fear grips Anders like a vice and he freezes where he stands, heart thudding so loudly in his chest he’s sure Karl can hear it.

“What are you talking about, love?” he asks slowly. There’s no response.

“ _Karl_ ,” Anders says, louder. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” comes the quiet reply. “I was just wondering.”

“Karl,” Anders repeats firmly. “Just…wait until I get there in a couple of days, okay? I want to talk about this in person. Can you do that for me?”

Karl murmurs something that sounds like a yes, but Anders isn’t content with that.

“Love, please,” he pleads. “I love you so much. Just relax for a couple of days, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“You don’t have to.”

“We’re _not_ having this argument,” Anders grits out. “But I need to know you’re okay – and going to _stay_ okay - before I hang up this phone.”

Karl sighs in resignation. “I’m fine, I promise. I’m just going to go to bed and try to sleep it off.”

“I’m going to call you tomorrow morning.”

“And interrupt my beauty sleep?” Karl huffs. Anders grins, heart aching with the need to be back by his boyfriend’s side.

“You could stay awake for a hundred years and still be gorgeous,” he teases, earning a quiet chuckle from the other end.

“Did I ever tell you what a sap you are?” Karl chides.

“Only for you, love,” Anders replies warmly. “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

* * *

Anders isn’t able to make it home like he promised. Rain forces their game on Wednesday to be delayed and it's pushed back until Thursday, taking up the one free day in his schedule for the next few weeks.

That doesn't stop him from being tempted to skip altogether.

“Do you think if I tell them it’s an emergency they’ll let me go?” he asks Justice Wednesday night, the pair sitting in the dugout together watching the rain during the delay.

“You know they will not.”

Anders sighs. “I promised him, Kristoff. I can’t let him down again.”

Justice turns slightly and examines the other man, the slip and use of his real name enough to capture his attention.

“He will understand,” Justice finally replies. “You cannot control the weather.”

“I know, but…” Anders growls in frustration, looking away. He’s thankful that no one else is close to them, at least.

“He’s not doing great,” he continues, lowering his voice just in case. “And I feel like an asshole breaking my promise. Even if I can’t control it.”

“Why not go on Sunday?”

“By the time we get done the game and I make it there it’ll be six or seven o’clock.”

“And?”

Anders closes his eyes, rolling his neck as he thinks.

“I’ll call him tonight,” he finally replies. “See what he thinks.”

Karl is disappointed, but not nearly as upset as Anders had expected him to be. He wonders with a twinge in his stomach whether Karl even cares if he visits anymore, but he doesn’t let himself dwell on the subject. Karl seems to be in much better spirits than the last time they talked, but Anders still can’t help but ask for more reassurances that he’s alright.  

“Are you sure you’re okay, love?”

“I feel good,” Karl confirms. “I’ve been doing a lot of cleaning the last couple of days, threw out some old stuff.”

“Nothing of mine, I hope,” Anders jokes.  

“I was nice and left your things be,” Karl chuckles.

“Well, I’m going to try and stop down there on Sunday, regardless,” Anders says. “I still want to see you.”

There’s silence on the other end.

“Is that okay?” Anders asks, picking at a thread on his pants. “Karl?”

“I, um…” Karl begins. “I was thinking of going out of town this weekend.”

Anders furrows his brow, something not ringing true.

“Oh yeah?” he asks with forced casualness. “Where to?”

“Don’t know,” Karl replies quietly. “I can…put it off for a day, if you really want to come down and say goodbye.”

“How long are you going to be gone?” Anders demands, sounding angrier than he intends.

“I just…I meant like…” Karl sputters. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset,” Anders sighs. “I’m sorry. This is just the first I’ve heard of it. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’re busy,” Karl replies, and Anders can almost sense the shrug he knows must accompany it. “And I didn’t want you to worry about me any more than you already do.”

Anders sighs quietly to himself again, closing his eyes. Karl probably finds him completely overbearing…no wonder he’s not jumping at the chance to have him around.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats quietly. “But I’d like to come see you. Can you wait to leave until after Sunday?”

Karl lets out a little murmur of assent and Anders finds himself relaxing a bit.

“I’ll see you then.”

* * *

The first thing that strikes Anders when he arrives on Sunday is how clean the house is. He knows Karl has been getting rid of old junk – and that he didn’t have much clutter himself – but the house barely looks lived in. A stark contrast to the last time he was there.

Justice comes down for the evening, taking his own car so he can leave after dinner. Anders plans on staying the night and driving back before the game on Monday. If Justice notices the state of the house, he doesn’t comment on it.

Karl, for his part, seems happy to see them. They have a relaxing dinner, laughing and talking as if it’s something they still do all the time. Anders and Justice both agreed to limit their baseball talk that evening, as difficult as it might be, and to try to let Karl guide the topics of conversation.

Justice leaves shortly after dinner, giving himself enough time to make the trek back to Calenhad before it gets too late. Karl embraces him before he leaves, holding on for a few beats too long and whispering something in his ear before pulling back. Anders remains a respectable distance away, lopsided smile on his face as he watches the scene. He locks eyes briefly with Justice, the other man frowning somewhat before giving a quick shake of his head and turning to leave.

Anders pulls his boyfriend into his arms as soon as they’re alone, giving him a soft, lingering kiss.

“Finally have you all to myself,” he murmurs against the other man’s lips.

Karl hums in agreement, resting his head on Anders’ shoulder. The two remain that way for a few minutes, slightly swaying in the dark foyer.

“You know…I don’t think we’ve ever danced together,” Anders whispers. Karl huffs out a laugh, face still pressed to Anders’ shirt.

“You don’t want to see me dance.”

“We’re basically doing it now,” Anders chuckles. “Too bad we don’t have any music.”

“This is nice, just as it is,” Karl mumbles in return, tucking his head a little closer to Anders’ neck. He presses a small kiss to the side, sighing in contentment.

Anders closes his eyes against the fading light, resting his cheek on the top of Karl’s head.

“I’ll make us a nice dinner, once the season’s done,” he murmurs, gently guiding Karl in a slow circle. “Maybe outside, on the back deck. Some candles…some music…”

Karl doesn’t give any acknowledgment that he hears and Anders doesn’t push, content to just hold his boyfriend in his arms.

* * *

Anders’ discomfort returns that evening before bed.

Karl is in the bathroom brushing his teeth when Anders realizes he left his bottle of lube back at the apartment. Far be it for him to put off what could be a _very_ enjoyable evening because of his forgetfulness. When he doesn’t find any in his bedside drawer, he rolls to the other side of the bed to fumble through Karl’s.

“Love?” he calls, frowning as he looks at the much different bottle in his hand. “Come out here a minute?”

Karl appears in the room a second later, toothbrush still in his mouth as he looks at Anders in confusion. Anders holds up three of the many bottles shoved in the drawer.

“Are you not taking your medicine?”

He’s on the opposite side of the room, but Anders is pretty sure Karl blanches at the question. Silence rests between them until Karl finally shakes his head, gesturing that he’ll be right back. He returns a second later, face schooled into a mask of nonchalance.

“Those are for my arm, not my head.”

Anders frowns again, looking more closely at the labels.

“Oh,” he says dumbly. “But still…”

“I didn’t need them all,” Karl explains. He’s not looking at Anders, taking his time as he picks out a pair of shorts to wear to bed. “But I’ve been refilling the prescriptions anyway in case I did.”

“Okay, but…” Anders begins, putting them back in the drawer. “Why? It’s not like you need to stockpile them.”

“Yeah…” Karl chuckles nervously. “It sounds pretty stupid now that I say it out loud. It made a lot more sense in my head.”

Anders forces a smile, watching in silence as Karl strips out of his clothes.

“I guess it’ll be good to have some extras while you’re away,” he says eventually. Karl freezes briefly, then continues to pull off his shirt.

“Yeah.”

The gnawing worry returns to Anders’ stomach and he bites his lip, debating his next words.

“Love?” he murmurs as Karl slides into bed. “Please don’t take this the wrong way…but I don’t think you should go anywhere right now.”

Karl shoots him a quick look before rolling onto his side.

“I’ve had this planned for a while,” he says. “I want to go now while I can.”

Anders scoffs.

“You mean before I come back.”

“No,” Karl sighs. “Can we not argue tonight?”

“Why not wait for me?” Anders asks, scooting closer. He wraps an arm around Karl’s waist, pulling the man flush with his body before resting his chin on Karl’s arm so he can see his face. “We can go wherever you want.”

“We can…” Karl says. “But I still need to go now.”

He rolls onto his back, Anders shifting out of the way to give him room. Karl reaches up to cup Anders’ face briefly before sliding his hand down Anders’ bare arm.

“I love you.”

Anders sighs, bending down to give Karl a kiss before snuggling beside him again, face to face.

“I love you, too,” he smiles.

Karl begins tracing patterns on Anders’ forearms as they lie there quietly, both men lost in their thoughts. The sensation is so rhythmic and soothing that it almost lulls Anders to sleep, but he hears Karl murmur something and it pulls him back.

“Mmph?” he grunts, blinking his eyes.

Karl smiles, studying his face as Anders rubs an eye.

“I said,” Karl repeats quietly, “don’t miss me.”

“Of course I’m going to miss you, love,” Anders huffs, gathering Karl into his arms again. “I miss you every second I’m not near you.”

“You know what I mean,” Karl sighs. “Just don’t…you know, dwell on me.”

Anders pulls back a little, looking at his boyfriend who is gazing back through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Karl…” Anders begins slowly. “How long are you going to be gone?”

Karl shrugs and closes his eyes.

“Haven’t decided yet. Figured I’d see once I get there.”

“And _where_ is ‘there’?”

“Haven’t figured that out yet either.”

Anders doesn’t remotely like this. Karl doesn’t offer up any more information, and Anders isn’t entirely sure how much he can reasonably demand from the other man without coming across as controlling and setting him off. Despite the fact that he thinks wanting to know where his boyfriend is disappearing to for God knows how long is a very reasonable request.

“Love?” he asks. Karl blinks his eyes open with a small smile. “What happens if, um…you know your cell phone doesn’t get the best service everywhere. How am I supposed to reach you? What if something happens?”

“I’ll make sure I go somewhere that has a signal,” Karl assures him. “And worse case…you’re my primary contact now, so if I’m in trouble, they’ll call you first. I changed it after I left the hospital.”

Anders feels a slight warmth bloom in his chest at the words, but he’s distracted by Karl’s hand moving under the sheets.

“Try not to get arrested on me,” Anders teases, somewhat appeased. “I get in enough trouble for the both of us.”

Karl opens his mouth to reply, confusion written on his face, but then snaps it shut and gives Anders a wan smile instead.

“So,” he says, taking Anders’ hand. “Are you going to spend our last night interrogating me or having your way with me?”

Anders knows Karl is trying to change the subject, but he doesn’t push, much more interested in his boyfriend’s hard cock now proudly on display before him than his travel plans.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re into a little role play?” Anders grins, wiggling his eyebrows. Karl rolls his eyes and sighs, taking his cock in hand and giving it a few strokes.

“It was my way of telling you to fuck me, but I’ll take care of it myself if you’re more interested in jokes…”

Anders takes the hint.

They stay up most of the night, and Anders knows he’s going to pay for it the next day, but he doesn’t care. Karl seems much more enthusiastic than he has lately, almost overwhelmed at times. Sometime in the early morning hours, well after they both should be asleep, Karl breaks down sobbing into Anders’ arms as the other man looks on in bewilderment.

“Love?” he asks frantically. “Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”

Karl just shakes his head, nails digging into Anders’ bicep as he pulls him closer.

“You’re fine, love,” he soothes, rubbing Karl’s back. “Just tell me what you need, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Anders can hear him muttering things into his arm, but between his muffled voice and the sobs that accompany it, he can’t make out the words.

“Love, you’re going to have to calm down for a second so I can understand you,” he says gently, pulling away. Karl’s face is blotchy and tear-stained and he looks away in embarrassment, rubbing his eyes with the edge of the blanket.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For everything.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Anders replies, immediately planting kisses to his wet cheeks. “Nothing at all.”

“I let you down.”

“Just give me another minute or two, I’ll get back up,” Anders jokes, bumping their noses together. Karl huffs out what might be a laugh but doesn’t smile.

“Love, why don’t you come back with me?” Anders whispers. “I’d feel so much better having you close. You worry me like this.”

“I told you, I can’t,” Karl replies, shaking his head again. “I’ll be okay in a couple days. Sorry.”

Anders doesn’t say anything, as Karl takes a few deep breaths to calm down before excusing himself to wash his face. Anders glances over at his phone where it rests on his bedside table, debating whether he should text Justice even at this late hour. Something isn’t sitting right with him, and he needs to make sure it’s not just his own mind.

Karl reappears before he can decide, however, smiling and with barely any indication that he was so upset. He slides back into bed and immediately rolls on top of Anders, pressing kisses to his face. As much as he doesn’t want to do it, Anders gently pushes him off.

“Do you want to talk?” he asks, biting his lip. Karl scowls, looking away briefly before pulling Anders on top of him.

“No, I want you to fuck me again.”

“Love…” Anders sighs, propping himself up. He tries to shift so Karl can’t see or feel his renewed erection, cursing his body silently for betraying him.

“We can talk in the morning,” Karl answers before he can continue. He looks up at Anders with pleading eyes. “I don’t want to ruin tonight any more than I already have.”

Anders closes his eyes, preparing to argue, but Karl pulls him down into another kiss, and he’s helpless to resist.

“Anders, please,” Karl murmurs against his lips. “Please, love me.”

The déjà vu that creeps in should be enough to give him pause, but Karl’s hands are stroking him a second later, and it’s enough.

* * *

Anders sleeps later than he should the next morning, which isn’t surprising but also isn’t welcome, either. He had been hoping for a long shower and leisurely breakfast together – with maybe one or two other activities mixed in – before he left, but he now finds himself with less than a quarter of his original time.

“Maybe I can just skip the game,” he groans, resting his head on his boyfriend’s stomach. Karl cards his fingers through Anders’ hair, body shaking slightly with his quiet laughter.

“You know you can’t,” Karl chides, tugging on a strand.

“But I had _plans_ for us this morning,” Anders pouts, turning to look at him.

“I don’t think my body can handle any more of your _plans_ so soon,” Karl smirks. “So better for us both.”

“I guess,” Anders sighs. He pauses for a moment, then looks back at Karl’s sleepy face. “You’re sure you’re going to be okay, love?”

Karl nods around a yawn.

“Are you just saying that so I stop bugging you?”

“No,” Karl replies, rolling his eyes. He sits up so Anders is forced to move as well. “Although I _do_ wish you’d stop worrying.”

“It will be a cold day in hell when I stop caring about you,” Anders smiles. “I told you before, you’re stuck with me.”

 

* * *

They say their goodbyes a short time later. A quick shower followed by a quick breakfast is all they have time for, to Anders’ chagrin, but it’s better than nothing. Now they’re standing in the foyer, Anders’ bag waiting by the door as he pulls Karl into his arms once more.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?” he murmurs, giving his boyfriend a quick kiss. “I’ll turn the car around and come right back.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Anders studies him for a moment, seeing his own despair reflected in the other man’s eyes, as much as he’s trying to hide it. He’d give anything to be able to take another day or two or ten to reassure himself that Karl is telling the truth. He still can’t shake the nagging feeling that something more is going on, but after the number of times he’s pestered Karl about it over the course of the last day he decides to let it rest. Karl will tell him when he’s ready.

“I guess I have to go then,” he frowns. “Love you. I’ll call you once I get back to the apartment, okay?”

Karl nods, trying to smile but failing. He looks on the verge of tears again as he lowers his head and walks quietly with Anders to the front door.

“Okay, love?” Anders asks one last time, turning for a kiss. Karl nods again, tilting his face back up to receive it. Anders smiles, running his fingers across his cheek before turning to leave.

He barely makes it down the steps when he hears Karl behind him.

“Anders, wait!”

He turns, eyebrows raised to see Karl fidgeting on the front stoop. He beckons with his head for Anders to come back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Karl tries again to smile. “I just didn’t get to say a proper goodbye.”

Anders lets out a sigh of relief, smiling as Karl loops his arms around his shoulders.

“We can’t have sex on the front porch, you know.”

“That’s _your_ idea of a proper goodbye, not mine,” Karl chuckles. He studies Anders’ face for a moment, a wistful look passing over his own.

“You know how much I love you, right?” he murmurs. Anders nods with another smile, giving him a soft kiss.

“I know, love.”

Karl smiles. “I just wanted to tell you again.” His face grows serious then, glancing over Anders’ shoulder before meeting his eyes.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he whispers, another faint smile playing on his lips. “You’ve made me happier in the last year than I’ve been in my whole life.”

He takes a moment to swallow, face scrunching up before continuing. Part of Anders wants to say something, but he doesn’t.

“I never…I never thought anyone would love me the way I am. Let alone someone as perfect as you.”

“Karl…” Anders sighs. His heart hurts with the confession, wondering why his boyfriend has chosen _now_ of all times to give it.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Karl continues before Anders can speak again. “I just wanted you to know. When you’re having a bad day, or you’re angry or…or you miss me. Just remember that you were the brightest spot in my life.”

Anders pulls him into a heated kiss, one which Karl returns just as eagerly. He can feel his heart thumping loudly in his chest, the tears threatening to fall from his eyes, but right now all he wants to focus on are his boyfriend’s lips. Judging by the small noises coming from Karl’s mouth, he must be feeling the same.

They both chuckle when they finally pull apart, swiping furtively at their eyes.

“I will never be able to top that speech,” Anders laughs, picking his bag back up. Karl just shrugs, lopsided smile on his face.

“And you call me a sap,” Anders says, leaning in for a final kiss.

“I learned from the best.”

As much as he doesn’t want to leave, Anders finally steps away and with a final wave, pulls out of the drive. Karl remains on the steps, hands in his pockets until Anders is out of sight.

Anders replays Karl’s words over and over in his head on the drive back to Calenhad, goofy smile on his face at his boyfriend’s bold expression of love. Karl has never been that forthcoming before, and it makes his chest well up with pride and happiness that Karl feels exactly the same way he does.

It’s not until he’s nearly back in the city that he begins to get a sinking feeling in his stomach…something he can’t quite put his finger on. He goes over the morning again in detail, replaying Karl’s words for what must have been the twentieth time already.

It comes to him as he’s walking up the steps to his apartment.

It wasn’t a declaration of love. It was a goodbye.

* * *

Anders is on the phone a minute later. Karl doesn’t pick up, which only send him spiraling into panic.

“Love?” he says when the voicemail clicks on. “Love, can you _please_ call me back when you get this? It’s an emergency. Fuck, just…Karl, _call me_.”

He hangs up, pacing across his apartment, trying to figure out what to do. Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just looking for something wrong when there is nothing. He picks up the phone again.

 **Anders:** _are you busy?_

 **JUSTICE!** _: Not at the moment. Are you home?_

 **Anders:** _yes, and freaking the fuck out. Something’s wrong._

The phone rings a second later, and Anders debates answering it. What if Karl calls in the meantime?

 **Anders:** _I’m trying to keep the line open in case Karl calls. Can you come over?_

**JUSTICE!** _: I’m on my way. Remain calm._

Anders wants to laugh at the statement. How the fuck is he supposed to stay calm right now?

He unlocks the door so Justice can let himself in and goes back to making a loop around the apartment. What else can he do? It’s too far to drive back, and he’s due at the ballpark in another hour or so. He curses himself for not making friends with any of the neighbors, having no one he can send to check up on Karl.

Right as he checks the window to see if Justice has pulled up yet, his phone rings.

“Love, oh my fucking God I was worried.”

“Anders?” comes Karl’s confused and slightly panicked greeting. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Are _you_ okay?”

“Yes?” Karl replies. “I ran to the store and left my phone at home. What _happened_?”

Anders sinks down into the nearest chair, not sure if he’s going to laugh or cry with relief. It’s at that moment that Justice storms into the room, slamming the door before rushing to Anders’ side.

“What was that noise?” comes Karl’s voice again. “Anders, talk to me!”

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Anders says to both men. “I just thought something happened to you, love. Maybe I was overreacting.”

“What are you  _talking_ about?”

“I feel like an idiot,” Anders chuckles, giving Justice an apologetic glance. The exhaustion washes over him a second later, and he chokes back a sob, biting his hand to keep quiet.

Justice reaches over and takes the phone from Anders. He can hear Karl still talking faintly in the distance, but he doesn’t try to take it back. Blood comes rushing into his ears, blocking out any other noise and he’s worried he’s going to pass out.

“Anders,” Justice says, suddenly in front of him. How much time has passed?

“Karl is still on the phone,” he continues. “I spoke to him, but he wishes to check on you again. Please hurry, we will be late.”

“Karl?” Anders breathes when he gets the phone back.

“I’m here, love,” Karl replies. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Anders sighs. “I think so. I’m sorry about that.”

Karl is quiet for a moment.

“I’m going to put off my trip for a day or two, okay?” he says. “I don’t feel right leaving with you like this.”

“Come up here instead,” Anders begs. He can see Justice shaking his head off to the side, but he ignores it. “Please, love. I want you here.”

“You know I can’t,” Karl quietly replies. “And I know you have to get to the park. How about we just talk when you get home tonight?”

Anders only feels a fraction better, but he can’t think of anything else he can do to improve the situation at the moment.

“Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll call you tonight.”

He turns to Justice once they say their goodbyes.

“Sorry.”

“You do not need to apologize,” Justice answers. “But you do need to tell me what set this off.”

Anders explains Karl’s mood, including his breakdown the previous night, before repeating the words Karl said that morning. He’s lost past any sense of embarrassment when speaking of his relationship to his best friend.

“It just…it sounded so romantic at the time,” Anders insists. “But the more I thought about it, the more it started to sound like a farewell speech from some horrible romance movie.”

“Perhaps Karl is watching romance movies in his spare time,” Justice smirks.

Anders huffs in frustration. “Doesn’t it seem odd to you?”

“A bit,” Justice admits. “His words to me before I left were a bit…unsettling.”

Anders looks at him in anticipation, but Justice doesn’t seem like he’s going to continue.

“Well?” he finally cries. “Are you going to tell me?”

“He just asked that I look after you. When he’s gone.”

Anders blinks for a moment, thinking.

“What were his exact words?”

“’Take care of him for me when I’m gone.’ I assume he means on his vacation.”

“That’s probably what he means,” Anders mutters, flopping back onto the couch. “I think I’m reading into everything. I probably sound out of my mind.”

“You have a right to be worried,” Justice argues. “But for now, I believe he is fine.”

He pats Anders on the shoulder, the other man just nodding in acknowledgment.

“Come,” Justice says. “We have to work.”

* * *

Anders calls Karl that evening, and other than the sleepiness evident in his voice, Karl seems okay. Anders forces himself to keep the call short, not wanting his theatrics from that morning to carry on into the night.

Karl repeats that he will wait another day or two before leaving, despite Anders telling him he doesn’t need to rearrange his plans because of his earlier outburst.

“I’ll feel too guilty leaving right now,” Karl insists. “I’d rather wait until I know you feel better.”

“I feel fine,” Anders lies. “Plus, the sooner you go, the sooner you come back, right?”

“That’s usually how it works. But you’re not changing my mind.”

“Did I ever tell you how stubborn you can be?” Anders chuckles.

"And again...I learned from the best."

"Well, if I'm just going to be insulted tonight..." Anders huffs jokingly. 

"You know I love you," Karl sighs. "Always."

The words melt Anders' resolve, the ache returning to his chest and he takes that as his signal that they should go to sleep.

They say their goodbyes. Anders, looking back, regrets giving in to his exhaustion and guilt, wishing every day that they could have had just a few more minutes of happiness. 

* * *

[the next day]

 **Karl:** _do you still have my equipment?_

 **Anders:** _of course, love_

 **Anders:** _why?_

 **Karl:** _you can throw it out_

**[Call declined: Anders]**

**Karl:** _just hang on to one of my jerseys maybe_

 **Karl:** _I have my glove here_

**[Call declined: Anders]**

**Anders:** _will you pick up your fucking phone?_

 **Karl:** _I’m heading out to the store, I’ll talk to you later tonight_

* * *

**Justice:** _Karl, why did I receive this ball in the mail today?_

 **Justice:** _Isn’t this from your first win?_

 **Justice:** _Karl?_

 **Justice:** _I will give this to Anders to keep at your apartment._

 **Karl:** _no, I want you to have it_

 **Justice:** _This is important. I cannot accept it._

 **Karl:** _just keep it, okay?_

 **Karl:** _I know I wouldn’t have been half as good as I was without your help_

 **Karl:** _for the little good it did me_

 **Justice:** _That is not true._

 **Justice:** _What is bothering you?_

 **Karl:** _I’m fine_

 **Karl:** _I just wanted to say thank you_

 **Karl:** _you’ve been an amazing friend_

 **Justice:** _We are still friends. I do not like this talk. Are you busy? I will call you._

 **Karl:** _can’t, Anders is calling now. I’ll talk to you later_

* * *

**[Missed call: Karl]**

**Karl:** _are you home?_

 **Karl:** _I need you_

**[Missed call: Karl]**

**[Missed call: Karl]**

**Anders:** _I’m home love, game went into extra innings_

 **Anders:** _are you okay? I tried calling_

 **Anders:** _love?_

 **Anders:** _why aren’t you answering your phone?_

* * *

Anders paces around his apartment, something he’s getting really tired of doing. He debates calling Karl again, sure the other man is just going to ignore his call for the tenth time that night. He could kick himself. All it took was one day for things to go to hell.

He decides to call the only other person he knows he can trust.

“I know I just said this yesterday, but I know this time I’m right. Something’s wrong.”

“What is it?” Justice demands. Relief surges through Anders that he’s being taken seriously.

“I got some…I don’t know, Karl tried to get ahold of me earlier today. Saying he needed me and I wasn't here to answer him and I just… _fuck_. Something is really wrong, and now he’s not answering his phone.”

“I am on my way over.”

"Can you try him?" Anders pleads. "Maybe he's just mad at me or something."

Justice agrees, but the quickness with which he calls back only heightens Anders' panic.

"He did not answer my calls either," the other man states. "I do not wish to overreact...but perhaps you should consider calling the authorities."

A fresh burst of panic erupts in Anders’ head and he sways on his feet, almost sure he’s going to fall down.

“The police?” he asks dumbly.

“They will arrive quickly and will know what to do. I am hanging up now.”

The line goes dead a second later, and Anders stares at the phone, unmoving.

 _This isn’t happening,_ he thinks. His breath is coming so rapidly he's sure now he's going to pass out unless he gets himself under control. Karl needs him right now, he can't let himself fall into hysteria.

Some sense comes back to him, and he’s able to punch in the number, hand shaking as he forces himself to hold the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” he gulps when the woman’s brisk voice greets him. “I have an emergency.”

* * *

Karl is unconscious but alive when the police arrive. They inform Anders that they had to break down the door to enter, spending entirely too long advising him to have someone watch over his house and less on Karl’s actual condition.

He’s eventually able to wrestle the hospital information out of one of the men, already speeding out of town before he hangs up.

* * *

Anders arrives at the hospital in record time, haphazardly parking his car across three spaces in his rush to get inside. He receives a brief call from Justice along the way, letting him know he’s called their manager and informed him of the situation. He promises he will cover for Anders for as long as he can.  

He practically sprints to the reception desk once inside, asking the nurse for Karl’s room number. She punches his name in without a word, only to shake her head a moment later. No visitor badges left.

“Are you sure you have the right room?” he asks, brow furrowed. “Thekla, T-H-E—“

“I heard you, sir,” the nurse replies curtly. “And I’m telling you there are only four people allowed in ICU rooms at a time, and all four have been distributed. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait.”

“But I’m his emergency contact!” he shouts back. “I shouldn’t fucking need a badge.”

“Sir, if you don’t calm down I’m calling security.”

He doesn’t argue again, pushing himself away from the desk to go pace the length of the lobby. It has to be Karl’s family, he thinks. He’s sure they must have been notified, but how they managed to beat him there, he has no idea.

He’s walked the room for what must be the twentieth time when his eyes fall on a map of the hospital. He searches for ICU, and although they don’t have the individual rooms outlined on the map, he can see the route he will have to take to get to the wing. Putting his hands in his pockets, he strolls over to the elevators and waits with a handful of others for it to arrive. Although he’s technically no longer in Rebels territory, he keeps his head down to avoid the risk of being recognized. Something he probably should have thought of when he was making a scene earlier, he realizes.

The elevator finally arrives, and he makes his way to the ICU wing. He nods at the nurse – who’s barely paying attention – as he passes, trying to look as if this is something he does on a regular basis. As horrifying as that thought is.

He stops short once he rounds the corner. Karl’s brothers are seated across the hall from what Anders assumes is his room, consumed by handheld video games. Their parents are nowhere in sight. His heart rate picks up slightly as he approaches, trying to remain calm.

Both boys notice him at the same time, one giving him a small smile while the other glares.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the scowling brother mutters, turning back to his game. The other brother continues to smile, however, and Anders focuses on him.

“Are your parents around?” he asks quietly.

The boy shakes his head. “They went to get food. They’ll probably be back soon, though.”

Anders bites his lip, looking over at Karl’s door briefly before locking eyes with the boy again.

“I’m going to go see your brother for a few minutes, okay?” he murmurs. The angry brother glares at him but says nothing while the other nods. Anders doesn’t want to press his luck – or waste any time – when he knows he has precious little of both.

He has to choke back a cry once he enters the room. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Karl might not be awake, and sure enough, the man is fast asleep. He’s hooked up to a variety of machines and looks completely at peace as Anders slowly approaches his bedside.

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle any of the machines, before reaching out to touch Karl’s face. A sob forces its way past his lips before he can stop it, and he bites his lip so hard it bleeds. He can’t draw any attention to himself. Not now.

He isn’t sure how long he sits there. Karl shifts a few times but gives no indication that he’s going to wake anytime soon.

A nurse eventually arrives, stopping short in surprise when she sees him.

“I don’t think you’re allowed in here,” she says, glancing to the hall.

“I’m his partner,” Anders replies immediately, steeling himself. “And I’m also listed as his primary contact. You can’t kick me out.”

She takes his name and information and with a few more stuttered words leaves to go verify his claims. Anders returns his attention to his boyfriend, hating that _this_ is the first time he’s able to acknowledge their relationship.

The noise and movement must have done something because Karl’s eyes open a moment later. He’s unfocused, blinking rapidly before settling on Anders.

“Where am I?”

“You’re okay,” Anders half-laughs, half-cries. “I’m here, you’re okay.”

Karl looks around the room, realization dawning on him and he starts to shake his head.

“No, no, no… _what did you do?_ ”

Anders sits back, confused.

“Love?”

“You weren’t supposed to…” Karl manages to get out before breaking into a sob.

He starts ripping the needles out of his arms, hitting Anders in the process, as the cries shake his body.

“ _Why did you stop me_?”

Anders takes a step back, looking at his boyfriend in horror as three nurses push their way past him into the room.

“Karl, _stop_!” he shouts as they wrestle him down. He can see Karl’s brothers appear in the doorway, watching with wide eyes much like himself.

Another nurse arrives and ushers all three of them away from the door, shutting it behind her and cutting off Karl's howls of grief.

“You can’t kick me out of there!” Anders shouts as soon as they’re in the hall. “What are they doing to him?”

“Sedating him,” the nurse replies curtly, although there’s some sympathy in her eyes. “You can’t be in there right now.”

Anders glances at the brothers, both of whom appear to be fighting back tears. He sighs, calming himself down for their sake, as much as he wants to keep arguing.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He gestures to the boys, guiding them back to their previous seats.

“What did you do to him?” the angrier of the two finally spits out. “He was _fine_.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Anders mumbles, suddenly exhausted. “He just…woke up.”

He pulls out his phone without another word, walking far enough away that his conversation won’t be heard, but close enough that he can glance back at Karl’s door. He dials Justice’s number.

“Anders,” the other man greets. “How is he?”

“I don’t—“

“What the _fuck_ is he doing here?” a voice shouts from the other end of the hall, interrupting him. Anders turns to see Karl’s parents approaching from the opposite direction, his father wild with rage.

“I have to go,” Anders mutters into the phone, hanging it up before turning to fully face the man.

“ _Get the fuck out of here_ ,” Mr. Thekla yells, storming up to Anders. “You have _no right_ to be here.”

Both boys have rushed to their mother’s side where she clings to them, tears already streaming down her face as a nurse approaches.

“ _Actually_ ,” Anders replies coolly, taking a step forward. “I have _every_ right to be here. Your son wants nothing to do with you. Check the paperw—“

He doesn’t get another word out as the other man’s fist connects with Anders’ jaw. He can hear Mrs. Thekla shout in the background, but it’s fuzzy and sounds too far away. Anders staggers back a few steps, works his jaw once or twice, then smiles.

“You really want to do this right now?” he hisses, drawing himself up to his full height. The other man might be stockier, but Anders has a good six inches on him. “Do you _really_ want me to embarrass you in front of your family?”

“You won’t do it,” the other man stutters, although he looks like he doesn’t believe it. “You won’t risk people seeing you.”

“Wanna bet?”

Security rushes in at that moment, pulling both men apart. Anders doesn’t struggle, just grins in the other man’s direction as his wife cries out and tries to pull him away. He hears a nurse at his side explaining the situation, asserting that she saw the whole thing, that Anders did nothing wrong, and _legally_ he is allowed to be here. That’s met with another round of shouting from Mr. Thekla.

Even in his rage, Anders hears Justice’s voice in the back of his head telling him to remain calm. _Do not do anything foolish_. He takes a deep breath and allows himself to be led down the hall.

* * *

He remains in an empty room for nearly 20 minutes while the situation is sorted out.

The same nurse who awkwardly came into Karl’s room earlier comes to find him, explaining Karl's status.

“Mr. Thekla isn’t exactly in a position to be receiving visitors right now,” she says, giving Anders a sympathetic look.

“How long do you expect him to be asleep?”

She shrugs. “A couple of hours, maybe. Visiting hours are over soon.”

Anders sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

“I’m going to stay until they kick me out,” he finally replies. “I don’t want to risk missing him if he wakes up.”

She gives him another sympathetic nod and gestures for him to follow as she heads back toward Karl’s room. Anders walks a few paces behind, bracing himself in the event of any more trouble. He can tell soon enough that Karl’s family has vacated – although he’s not sure if they actually left or are just gone temporarily.

“Is it okay if I sit with him?” he asks the nurse, who nods in reply.

He pulls up a chair next to Karl’s bed, wondering how they came to be in this situation for the second time in nearly as many months. He can’t help but blame himself for not listening to his gut sooner, actually _doing_ something instead of bugging Karl every spare chance he had.

Anders’ phone pings a few seconds later and he sees Justice’s name flash on the screen.

 **JUSTICE!:** _How is he?_

 **Anders:** _asleep…there was an incident_

 **JUSTICE!:** _Can you speak?_

 **Anders:** _I’m kind of exhausted. And hoping Karl wakes up before I have to leave_

 **JUSTICE!:** _I understand. Please call me if you need me._

Anders doesn’t respond to that message, turning the phone over and over in his hands as he listens to the rhythmic blip of the machines. The room feels so cold, even in the heat of the late summer evening.

 **Anders:** _what else could I have done?_

 **JUSTICE!:** _Do not blame yourself for this. You did as much as you could._

 **Anders:** _obviously not enough if he’s in here_

 **JUSTICE!:** _He will be fine, Anders. Give it time. We will be there to help him._

Anders notices Karl stirring in front of him, and he drops the phone onto the chair, conversation forgotten. Justice can wait.

Karl blinks his eyes open again, eventually focusing them on Anders. He looks tired rather than irate this time, which Anders hopes means he’ll be more receptive.

“Hey, love,” Anders greets with a small smile.

Karl just stares blankly at him for a few moments before letting out a sigh and shutting his eyes.

“Anders,” he murmurs. “I should have known you wouldn’t give up.”

“I never will,” Anders whispers back. “Karl, _talk to me_. Tell me how I can help you.”

“Just let me go, Anders. You weren’t supposed to see me again.”

Anders looks down, gripping the sheets in his hands as the tears fall from his eyes and onto the bed.

“I told you before,” Anders begins with a shaky breath. “You’re stuck with me. So that’s not happening.”

“Anders,” Karl says, taking his hand. Anders looks up to see Karl’s watery eyes trained on him, pleading. “Do you love me?”

“More than anything else,” Anders breathes, moving to sit on the bed to be closer to his boyfriend. “You know that.”

“Then help me.”

“Whatever you need, love,” Anders nods eagerly. “I’ll get you the best of everything, just tell me what you want.”

“No,” Karl shakes his head, looking away. “You need to _help_ me. I can’t…I can’t go back to the way I was before.”

Anders frowns, staring at him for a moment before it dawns on him what Karl’s asking. He recoils, staggering away from the bed. Karl doesn’t look at him, studying the blanket between his fingers.

“Why the _fuck_ would you ask that?” Anders hisses, making his way back to his side. “You know what my answer is.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like,” Karl says, voice cracking. He doesn't bother to hide his own tears. “All I do is cause problems. For my family, for the team, for _you_. You don’t _know_ what it’s like to be so consumed by this feeling that it blocks out everything else in your life. All you want is to escape, but no matter what you try, you _can’t_.”

He grabs Anders’ hand again, pulling him closer.

“There’s nothing you can do for me, love,” he whispers. “Other than to let me go.”

Anders shakes his head as he sits on the bed once more, pulling Karl’s hand to his lips for a kiss.

“You're wrong,” he grits. “My God, you're so, so wrong and I don't know how I can convince you of that. You're not a burden to _anyone_ , do you understand me?”

Karl doesn't reply, just continues to stare. 

"I'm sorry," Anders murmurs. "I'm sorry, I can't do it."

Karl’s entire body goes limp, his hand nearly falling out of Anders’ as he turns his head away.

“I have nothing else to say to you, then.”

“Love, don’t be like this,” Anders begs, reaching over to tilt Karl’s head in his direction again.

Karl doesn’t make any effort to speak, closing his eyes and shifting away once Anders lets go of his face. It’s petulant, and Anders knows he’s doing it for a reaction, but it works.

“How about…” he begins, grasping at straws. “Let me think about it overnight.”

Karl looks at him at those words, studying his face.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Anders nods, biting his lip, hoping Karl can't see through the lie. “Just…give me some time. Visiting hours are almost over, you know?”

Karl’s eyes flick between the door and Anders briefly before he smiles.

“Okay,” he agrees. “You better head out, then. Before they kick you out.”

Anders smiles in return, happy he’s bought himself a little more time. He’ll call Justice once he leaves and figure out the best way to talk Karl out of this. Maybe come by the hospital a little early tomorrow and see if he can catch Karl’s doctor.

“Just rest tonight, okay?” he says, leaning down to give Karl a gentle kiss. “And I’ll be back to see you in the morning. Stay with me, love.”

Karl nods with relief, pulling Anders back down into a kiss.

“Thank you,” he whispers against his lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” Anders sighs, unable to resist one last kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

* * *

Karl dies at some point during the night. The nurses are fuzzy on the details – something about someone not showing up for a shift, leaving Karl unattended for much longer than he should have been. By the time the machines signaled that something was wrong, he was already too far gone.

Anders receives the call early in the morning hours, curled up in his cheap hotel room across the street. The news doesn’t register at first, and he shouts at the nurse, telling her she called the wrong number. After she repeats herself two more times, it finally sinks in, and he hangs up on her mid-sentence.

He stares out the window, watching the lights on the highway as he waits for his brain to kick into gear.

 _There has to be something I can do_ , he thinks. _Karl said he would wait_. _Karl said he loved me and he would wait. Karl said…Karl said…_

It finally hits him, and his legs give out, crumbling to the floor next to the bed as the sobs rack his body. He manages to reach for his phone, fumbling with the buttons until he finds the number he wants. Justice answers after the first ring, sounding for the world like he never went to sleep. Anders can't respond, letting his cries say the words that he can’t speak out loud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY, KARL. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. 
> 
> Okay, I lied. I'm like...50% okay with this chapter. But tbh, if I sat here and dwelled on the few bits I don't like we'd be waiting another month for it to be posted. 
> 
> That said, I apologize for taking so long to get this up! It's been mostly written but then life happened (as it unfortunately tends to do). We have one more chapter here left, an epilogue of sorts, and then back to the main story. Where this entire fic will be summed up in like 100 words and you'll all be like, "wtf, why did I read 50k+ when I could have just read this?" Hopefully it's worth it. 
> 
> I'm also hoping this chapter didn't come off as too...tedious. Or abrupt. Can a chapter be tedious and abrupt at the same time? Probably, but hopefully not in this case. I feel like it covered a lot, but I didn't want to break it up.
> 
> EDITED TO ADD: I have no medical knowledge, so if I said something (whether about his actual injury or hospital procedure, etc.) that isn't correct, just write it off as artistic license or whatever. I can't handle being in hospitals at all, so I don't know much about the inner workings of them. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has commented, chatted with me, and encouraged me to keep going, especially since things have been so hectic <3 I really, really appreciate it.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it! 
> 
> This is a really short chapter; just a brief epilogue to bridge us to the main fic. No new warnings or tags. I was going to wait until the weekend to post but I got impatient and wanted to beat the Andromeda rush :)

The years pass.

Anders sells the house in Haven and his apartment in Calenhad, unable to stand the constant reminders of Karl that permeate everything in his life. He stays with Justice until he finds an apartment outside of the city in an area unfamiliar enough that it evokes no memories.

He spends his time with Justice in stubborn stoicism, barely shedding a tear after the night of Karl’s death. Justice is sure he’s heard his cries late at night, well after they’ve gone to their respective bedrooms, but come morning Anders is back to his detached demeanor.

Once the season ends and he moves out, Anders spends the off-season in seclusion, refusing to leave the house. He promises Justice he will keep in touch - that he's fine, he just needs some time alone and away from the game to get his head back on straight. The contact barely comes, and Justice is forced to show up unannounced at Anders' door after more than a week of texts and calls go unanswered. 

“What are you doing to yourself?” Justice asks, barely restrained anger and disgust evident in his voice. Anders is disheveled, has clearly lost weight, and looks as if he hasn’t had a proper meal or shower since he moved out.

“Enjoying my time off,” Anders retorts.

He leaves the door open, flopping back onto the couch that seems to be doubling as his bed and paying Justice no mind as his attention returns to the TV. The other man closes the door behind him as he surveys the room, sighing quietly to himself.

“Anders,” he begins again, moving to stand behind the couch. “You cannot…sulk.”

He can see Anders’ jaw tick once, but the man does not acknowledge the remark.

“It is not healthy to live like this,” Justice continues, stepping closer. “Karl would not—“

“Don’t you _dare_ say his name,” Anders snarls, sitting upright so fast Justice takes a step back. “You have _no_ right.”

“I have _every_ right to be concerned for my friend,” Justice booms in response. He moves closer again, fixing Anders with a withering look. “You are no martyr allowing yourself to waste away in his memory.”

Anders opens his mouth to respond, but one look at Justice’s face and the anger seems to drain away. He slumps over, head in his hands, and the other man takes the opportunity to sit next to him. Things are silent between the pair for a few moments until Anders lets out a shaky sigh, glancing over at his friend.

“I just miss him so fucking much.”

Justice wraps an arm around Anders’ shoulders, pulling him into a hug as he breaks down, sobbing.

“I miss him as well,” Justice murmurs. Anders just continues to shake with silent cries, soaking the shoulder of Justice’s shirt.

“But Anders, you must allow yourself to move on.”

“I don’t _want_ to move on,” Anders growls, shoving himself away. “I want Karl back.”

Justice sighs, rubbing his face as he tries to think of the right words.

“I do not mean you should stop caring about him,” he finally says. “But you have a life to live.”

“I _don’t_ ,” Anders insists, shaking his head. He knows he’s being petulant, and part of him is embarrassed about his behavior, but it doesn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

Justice doesn't realize what it's like to have half of your soul ripped out, knowing it can never be replaced. How often he catches himself thinking, "when Karl comes home..." only to remember the agonizing truth a second later. He thought moving away would remove the memories, not realizing that  _everything_ would be a reminder. He sees Karl in the most basic ways and places, and eventually just decides that the best way to forget is to not leave the safety of his couch.

“You’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself to see otherwise,” Justice replies simply, dragging Anders out of his thoughts. “I suggest you take an evening – just one – to go out and enjoy yourself. Something you did not do with Karl. I will go with you if you wish.”

 _It's not going to help_ is his immediate thought, but Anders purses his lips, considering the idea. Part of him is tempted to say yes just to appease Justice, but a nagging part of his brain is telling him to just _do_ it. A night out isn’t going to replace Karl, but it’s also nothing he should feel guilty about. Maybe he just needs a distraction. 

He nods, running a hand through his hair and frowning when his fingers get tangled.

“You don’t have to come with me,” he grumbles, shooting Justice a look when he tries (and fails) to hide a smirk. “But maybe I should get cleaned up first.”

* * *

One night out turns into several, and before long, Anders is spending four or five nights every week cruising the bars and clubs in the city, complete with his own small entourage of pretty people looking to share in the limelight.

He becomes a regular in the press, photo after photo of him with a different woman hanging off his arm every night. It slows down somewhat once the season starts again and he regains the steadfastness of Justice in his life, but it doesn’t disappear entirely. He’s chastised more than once for his off-field behavior, which he just brushes off with rolled eyes.

What they don’t know is how he goes home alone more often than not. Too much to drink inevitably leads to too many old memories. The women’s faces blur and the men suspiciously begin to look too familiar. Too much like the man he's trying to push out of his mind, at least for the night. While he may have a different body by his side night after night, they don’t make it to his bed, hasty excuses given before he’s able to stagger away alone. It doesn’t stop the rumors, however, and his reputation as a player is almost laughable. Not that he does anything to quash them.

Road trips are slightly easier, especially in the more out-of-the-way cities where he’s not as recognizable. He can slip out after the games and hit some of the bars where he knows his teammates won't be found. A few flirty smiles and carefully chosen words and it's that easy to bring a man to his knees in front of him. If he's in a good mood, maybe even a quick fuck in the bathroom. 

But only when he’s sure he won’t be caught.

His image is carefully maintained now, and if there’s one thing he’s learned it’s that the  _straighter_  the better. What's the old saying? Women want him and men want to be him. Anders knows his image sells. This, at least, can be cultivated and controlled.

He’s not quite sure who he is anymore.

* * *

Justice is the one steady presence in his life.

Things aren’t good with the team. If Anders is honest with himself, they never have been. The night he stormed out after the ambulance is the frame of reference he gives, but he knows things were sour before that. The coaching staff has changed over the years but the management has remained the same, and there’s always been a sense of wariness when dealing with him. They know they need him. He’s the face of the franchise. But it doesn’t mean they have to like him.

Anders knows this, and he takes it in stride. He doesn’t have to like them either, as long as they let him pitch and keep the paychecks coming. And if he takes the chance to remind them every once in a while that he’s the best, well, they’re going to have to deal with it. He ignores directives. He gets into arguments. He’s brash, cocky, and not exactly the definition of a “team player.” Most of his teammates – minus Justice – give him a wide berth.

He never feels comfortable, as much as he tries. And he _does_ try. The season is full of ups and downs, tensions running high when they’re playing poorly – which is often – and easing off when they’re not. The unfortunate part is that by the time things get _really_ unbearable, he’s only a few months into a new multi-year contract with no option to escape. The years looming ahead of him are like a chain around his neck.

At least he has Justice there when things get too bad, and they are the only ones who seem to thrive on an otherwise dismal team for many dismal seasons. It at least allows him time to scope out the other teams, honing his choices down to a few select cities that will battle it out for the right to have him on their roster.

 _Anywhere_ has to be better than here.

* * *

The day he accepts the offer from Kirkwall, it feels as if a decade of weight has been lifted from his shoulders. He only returns to the empty clubhouse once more, wanting one last look at the room that housed so many memories.

He lingers next to his locker, nameplate still hanging above as if he’ll be returning in a few short months along with everyone else. The plate with Justice’s name hangs to his right, and Anders allows himself to remember when it was a different name in its place, if only for a short time. He slides his name out of its spot, pocketing it to bring home to be packed away with its partner’s.

Anders takes one last look around, only the briefest twinge of sadness coiling in his stomach before he turns and makes the exit from this chapter of his life.

* * *

It’s an offhanded comment by Nate Howe one day months later during practice that has Anders craving pastries, something he hasn’t indulged in for a long time. An argument breaks out over which bakery makes the best treats, the others laughing when Anders proclaims croissants to be his favorite. They rattle off a list of names, giving him an idea where he can find the best of his guilty pleasure.

This team isn't like his last. There's no bad blood, no bad memories. They welcome him with open arms - a strong, close-knit group who recognize the talent they have received. He likes them immediately. He's shocked at how quickly he settles in. 

One bakery name sticks out from the rest – Bodahn’s – unusual enough that he remembers it the next morning when he goes on his hunt for breakfast. He nearly walks past the storefront, as unassuming as it is, but is pleased to see he’s the only customer once he walks inside.

 _Must have missed the morning rush_ , he thinks.

He approaches the front case, perusing the selection until an overly enthusiastic voice calls out from behind the counter.

“Good morning!” the cheerful man greets. “Welcome to Bodahn’s! What can I get for you?”

Anders looks up, unexpected fluttering in his chest as he locks eyes with the beautiful, grinning man in front of him and his life changes forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and forth with how I wanted to do this chapter. Originally it was very detailed, starting with the immediate aftermath of Karl's death and going all the way up to Caught Looking. But it felt like too much. This is Anders' story, but it's also Karl's, and I want Karl to rest. I may revisit this part of Anders' life in the future, but for now, I think this works best.
> 
> I don't know how many people are interested in the topic, but I did a LOT (a lot more than it probably appears, tbh) of research about homosexuality in sports. Did you know that there's not ONE single openly gay athlete in the four major American pro sports leagues? If you are interested, here are links to two of the more recent articles I used as reference. One from the [Chicago Tribune](http://www.chicagotribune.com/sports/ct-gay-athletes-stay-in-closet-spt-0626-20160624-story.html) and one from [Rolling Stone](http://www.rollingstone.com/sports/features/why-professional-sports-still-has-a-gay-problem-20160627). I know some people found it kind of hard to believe that Karl would be so adamant about not being out, so I thought these might shed a little light on things, idk. 
> 
> Anyway! Thank you all so, SO much for sticking with me through what was definitely a very rough ride on my end, and one that I know brought out a lot of feelings for you all, as well. It really means a lot to me, the support I've gotten, and I appreciate every one of you <3 
> 
> We can finally close this chapter and get back to the main story. I think Anders has a lot of explaining to do.


End file.
